Madame Scarlet's
by Digitallace
Summary: Snape and Lucius run an exotic brothel made of Incubi and Succubae. When both Harry and Draco turn out to hold the strain in their blood it poses some problems for the owners and for the boys. *Explicit content warning* DM/HP.HP/DM.SS/HP/DM so far
1. S&M

**Authors Note:** My initial thanks go out to Laurel. Not only is she the beta for this tale, but I had these first three chapters only partially written when a mention of 'Madame Scarlet's' in one of her brilliant stories was all that it took to inspire me to fill in the blanks. Secondary thanks go out to everyone who voted in my yahoo groups poll, whether this is the fic you voted for or not, I still appreciate the feedback. (I'll get to most if not all the other stories eventually as well, so no worries) Now, as some of you might already know, this story will contain a few pairings, the main and most important being D/H of course. There will also be some SS/DM/HP and I'm sure even more that I haven't thought of yet. This story makes me blush, so it might make you as well. Consider yourself warned. *Explicit content warning for this story* Also, as with all of my stories, I have created graphics to coincide (a book cover if you will) and they can be found on my yahoo group.

Chapter 1 S & M

Black patent shoes scuffed up a short flight of stairs to the front door of a townhouse he had purchased with Lucius the minute the dust from the war had settled. There was nothing to indicate that it was even a business except the golden foil letters on the frosted glass inset of the door that read 'Madame Scarlet's'.

He paid no mind to the odd stares he received as people on the street took in his appearance. Billowing black robes and century old clothing was slightly out of place in central London, but no one seemed incompetent enough to comment on it, which was just as well since Severus preferred to keep his wand sheathed in such close proximity to his business. The building was only situated here so that they could capitalize on muggle and wizard clients alike and, so far, it had been working handsomely.

Snape's partner had called him in for a meeting which they would normally have at the Manor –something must have gone wrong for Lucius to want to meet here. They rarely visited the establishment themselves, wanting instead to let their capable management team handle the inner workings of the company. It was safer that way, what with Snape still trying to maintain his position at Hogwarts and Lucius' wife being as clever and suspicious as she was. It would not bode well for either of them to be caught running a brothel solely composed of an endangered species.

He didn't even get a chance to ring the bell before a lovely woman greeted him at the door. "Welcome to Madame Scarlet's," she purred and opened the door wider to allow him to pass, though she made certain it wasn't wide enough that he could avoid brushing against her as he did. "Have you visited before?"

Severus narrowed his eyes and assessed the young thing. She was wearing a pencil skirt in a deep gray that stopped mid-thigh and a matching jacket with a bit of lace from a corset underneath peeking out under a mound of cleavage. It was standard uniform for the muggle women that ran the front desk and lobby, but he hadn't seen her before and deduced that Lucius must have been recruiting behind his back. "I'm here to see Lucius," he told the girl at last and her seductive guise dropped into one of slight scrutiny.

"I assume if you know him then you know the password?" she asked, flicking her silken blonde hair behind her shoulder. The gesture brought the back of her right hand into view and Snape spied the fresh crimson initials of 'S' and 'M' tattooed into the tanned flesh there. Clearly she was just out of training.

"Stupid girl, do you know who I am?" he snarled but she didn't even flinch. The girls were trained well to handle all sorts of odd situations and angry customers.

"Should I?" she asked sounding a tad bored by his outburst.

With a growl he simply held up his ring with the Snape house insignia –an emerald serpent wrapped around a sharp blade- and her eyes widened. That crest, along with Malfoy's was used to sign every document, including the employee's paychecks. With his other hand Snape pressed a finger harshly against the 'S' inked into the top of her hand and watched as her face twisted in agony. He knew the pain that she must feel from his touching the mark in anger, because his thoughts of punishment burned her physically through the magical connection. The poor muggle girl had no way of defending herself so Snape didn't torture her as badly as he might a witch in her position.

"Mr. Snape, Sir, I'm sorry. I didn't realize, please forgive me," she whimpered, clearly having heard about his reputation from the others and no doubt still reeling from the pain he had inflicted upon her.

He held his hand out to her and she immediately dove on it, kissing the ring and his surrounding fingers; she started to take one into her mouth when Snape pulled it away with a withering stare. "Insolent girl, I never gave you permission to go further."

"Of course, Sir. I'm terribly sorry, Sir," she replied with wide, frightened eyes.

It was hardly even fun when they were whimpering puddles and not the least bit defiant. "Off with you then," he scoffed and she left the room at a near run. The girl had failed to inform him of Lucius' location so Snape still didn't know where to find his partner so he went upstairs to the topmost floor to his and Lucius' private parlor.

As he suspected, Snape found the man draped elegantly in an armchair by the fire in their private room with a drink in his hand. The orange light made his hair appear more golden than white and his attire was perfectly pressed and ornate as was usual for the Lord of Malfoy Manor. However, none of those things mattered much, it was the sparkle of the man's gray eyes that made Snape hesitate in the doorway.

"Severus," he greeted levelly, and Snape's heart seized at the tone. The only person in the world he had ever felt a weakness for was Lily Evans, her flaming mane and emerald stare still haunted his dreams at night, but his affection toward Lucius Malfoy was more akin to the longing he held for Lily rather than that of a business partner. He nearly melted while in the man's presence and worked ever so hard to be alone with him. They had been lovers at one time, but Lucius had ended it when Narcissa threatened to leave him. It seemed painfully easy for the stately and powerful man to cast Snape aside, while the memory of their affair still burned within the dark haired wizard. It was some time ago that Severus decided to hurt Lucius as he himself had been hurt; if he couldn't have him, he would find a way to make the man's life hell.

"Lucius," Snape replied after taking in the changes made to the parlor since the last time he had been there. The mantel was cluttered with bottles of expensive alcohol and above it hung a portrait of the original harem. Together he and Lucius had found and convinced the group of barely legal teens to come work for them, which was hardly difficult given the nature of who they employed. Five young women and three young men all posed in the midst of an erotic stance, each in some compromising position and state of undress. Snape could only imagine the visceral sounds that would have filled the room had the portrait not been silenced.

Other than the promiscuous portrait and a few new items of furniture the room remained virtually unchanged. "You could have told me when you had that portrait made. I would have liked to attend that event," Snape remarked sourly, gesturing toward the portrait.

"You make the others uncomfortable, you know that Severus," Lucius replied with a glorious sigh. "I couldn't invite you, I'm sure you understand."

"I'm half owner here as well," he reminded the arrogant man. "Those are our employees, Lucius, they do as we say."

"_Were_, Severus. They _were_ our employees," the man replied curtly. "What's past is past."

That was true; the employees were in fact past tense now. The group having such a fabulous time in the portrait was no longer with them. One had died in the war and two ran off to America when the battles started to heat up, but the others died in their care. It appeared, despite the general makeup of their species, that their employees could in fact be over-sexed and if they went too long without their destined mate in this condition they could die. It was a hard lesson to learn, having five bodies on their hands because of their lack of knowledge. Severus blamed Lucius; after all, it was he that was supposed to be the expert, while Snape brought in the talent to be groomed.

Since the war their employees had dwindled so significantly that they had to hire muggles to fill in the gaps, loathe as they were to do so. There just weren't enough bodies to entertain all of the client orders. Now that the school was rebuilt and classes were set to resume, Snape felt confident they could rebuild their little brothel with ease.

"The well has run dry, Severus," Lucius told him curtly, interrupting his train of thought and offering him a glass of amber liquid and an empty seat, which Snape accepted.

Snape rolled his eyes and swirled his glass of cognac slowly, sniffing it before taking a heavy sip. "Don't talk to me as if I'm oblivious to these things, Lucius. I _am _co-founder of this little operation after all. I'm fully aware of how few new recruits we have."

"You wouldn't have even known about them if not for me," Lucius sneered.

"And you would have no access to them without me," Snape replied with indignation. He would not let Lucius belittle his part in their joint business venture just because his wife shared traits with their captives. His position at Hogwarts was invaluable to their company as he had full access to the students as they came of age –which was the point at which they would first begin their transformation- and could be easily molded into the perfect sex slave. If they didn't come willingly they were sometimes brought in by force. They had been up to this scheme since before the war even began and the profits were quite handsome.

Lucius huffed and finally sat back down across from Severus. "Well, this year you'll have help, as Draco will be coming into his inheritance tomorrow."

"I thought so, does he know?" Snape asked, his mind already turning the possibilities over in his mind.

"Of course he knows. We told him as soon as the war was over," Lucius replied with a casual wave.

"Does he know about our little… club?" Severus asked.

"No," Lucius shouted defensively, getting to his feet. "And he won't be told until he graduates and joins us here, is that understood?"

"So, is that your intention then, to have him join the others?" Snape asked with a slight grin. "This surprises me, Lucius." He knew the very idea of Draco being taken as a slave for their elite clientele would offend him deeply, but he so enjoyed getting a rise out of his former lover.

"Draco will not be like the others," Lucius spat. "This year he'll help you seek out the new hires and once he graduates he'll be entrusted to handle the daily needs of the business," he added with a sneer. The idea irked him, but Snape merely nodded. He had suspected Malfoy's plans for his son's future, and, in a way, it made sense to have someone they could trust implicitly with the management of their endeavor, but Snape didn't want the younger Malfoy to become partners as well, thus giving them majority rule and the ability to push him out.

It had been nearly twenty years ago that he and Lucius had begun this secret business together. Twenty years since Lucius told him of his wife's affliction and that there were many others out there like her, all of which came into their inheritance at seventeen. For twenty years they have developed a prestigious clientele of muggles and magical folk alike who paid handsomely to have their needs addressed by the very talented people within these. Up until last year he and Lucius had operated in various unplottable locations, always moving, always fearful of being caught, but the war had created a havoc they found quite beneficial for their elite club which allowed them to set up a permanent location.

Narcissa had no idea, nor would she approve, of the little harem they had created over the last two decades. She never asked questions about what Lucius did for the hefty amounts of additional galleons in their vault, having been forbidden by her husband to do so. She surely would have had her suspicions though, but she always dutifully obeyed Lucius' wishes and stayed clear of the matter.

"Well, we'll have a hard time of it this year, with so many dying and others fleeing the country, there will be far less students coming to Hogwarts," Snape muttered. "Will your son have an easy time seeking them out?"

Lucius nodded. "He will, yes. He'll be naturally attracted to them far more than any human would be."

"Interesting, and what reason are you giving him to bring them to me?" he asked.

"He's already willingly agreed to turn them over without question," Lucius responded haughtily. Snape knew that Lucius was proud of his son and thought him to be the pinnacle of Slytherin purity, always obedient, always putting his family before all else. Severus, however, knew better.

"And his hunger, how is he to sate that while he's in school?" Snape asked, nearly salivating at the idea of taking his partner's son for his own. Ever since the older Malfoy had grown cold toward him romantically, Snape had waited for the moment the younger Malfoy would come of age. He would see to it that Draco filled the position that his father no longer wished to.

"He is to take what he wants and then modify their memories," he replied, then quickly narrowed his eyes. "You are not to touch him with even one sallow greasy finger," Lucius warned.

Snape chuckled, but made no such promise as he took another sip of his drink.

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A searing pain like nothing Harry had ever felt before blistered through his veins like wildfire. He wanted desperately to be free of the torment being wreaked upon his mind and body, but it refused to abate. His sun kissed skin, made paler because of his forced indoor solitude at Privet drive that summer, was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. He had kicked off all the bed linens but it still did nothing to alleviate the sweltering heat that seemed to seep from his every pore.

His hair splayed across the sheets; raven locks soaked through to the ends. His lips formed a silent scream as his throat was constricted too tight to make a sound, but he wished he could. He wished his could scream away the pain that had his chest arching from the bed and his nails clawing the mattress.

It felt as though pins and needles were being worked into his skin from every direction. His stomach churned and he felt close to vomiting. Shaking and gulping in shallow breaths whenever his body allowed it, Harry tried to ride out the pain, hoping with every fiber that it would cease on its own very soon. If he had to rely on the Dursley's to help him, Harry would be thoroughly fucked.

He couldn't recall the point at which he felt the fire in his veins begin to subside because he had blacked out from the intensity of the experience; but eventually it did fade and he fell back into a fitful sleep. It was also lost on the raven-haired boy that it had been exactly the stroke of Midnight on his seventeenth birthday when he had awoken in the first place. All he knew was that never again would he eat leftover curry take-out, no matter how starving he was.

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Harry woke later that morning feeling peculiar. He had only a vague recollection of the painful dream he had experienced and he tried to put it behind him and start his day; his Uncle Vernon would be unlocking his door soon and demanding that breakfast be served.

He got up and dressed quickly, feeling the sticky sweat still lingering on his skin. He reeked and desperately needed a shower, but it would have to wait. Harry was still a slave to the whims of his Uncle Vernon and would only be permitted to use the shower when his uncle deemed it appropriate.

For Harry, life at the Dursley's was tediously repetitive; get up and fix breakfast for everyone, get locked back in his room until it was time to serve the family lunch, then locked up again until dinner. It was a caged existence, and the small bedroom next to Dudley's was nearly as claustrophobic as the cupboard under the stairs had been.

He wouldn't have to tolerate it for long though. Today was his seventeenth birthday, and after today, he would never have to return to the Dursley's again.

Dumbledore had requested he come back for this final summer, and Harry intended to keep his promise. Though Voldemort was dead, perished by Harry's own hand last year, he still came back to the little muggle house, and back to his foul muggle family, because of a promise to a dead man.

He had heard through Ron and Hermione that Draco and Snape had been cleared of all charges and would be back at Hogwarts when school restarted. How two evil souls like that could be let back into a school filled with innocent students, Harry didn't know. As much as he'd like to, he couldn't stop them from returning, but he certainly didn't have to like the idea.

The door clicked open and his uncle Vernon was staring into the room with his nose scrunched up in distaste. "Why do you smell so vile, boy?" he asked.

Harry only shrugged, he knew better than to speak, lest he say the wrong thing and get backhanded. He only had to make it through one more day and then he could be rid of them forever.

"Well, have a shower and come downstairs to make breakfast," he grunted. "But make it quick," he amended.

It must really be his birthday for Vernon to have been as generous as that. Harry went straight to the small bathroom at the end of the hall and slid out of his nightclothes as he began scrutinizing his body in the mirror. He jabbed at the well-toned muscles of his abdomen and rubbed his palm along the shadow of stubble that had grown in on his chin. All these things had been slowly developing as he grew older and he saw no significant differences to his body this particular morning, but for the first time since his eleventh birthday Harry actually _felt_ different. A bellow from downstairs had him clamoring into the shower and he immediately got under the warm water.

He stood there for a moment and just luxuriated under the spray. He never noticed before how the water made his skin tingle, or how it caused his nipples to stand at attention and only a moment later he looked down to find his cock fully erect and throbbing.

It was beyond any normal morning wood he had ever had and it begged for attention, so he snaked his trembling hand down and gripped it roughly. The sensation made his head fall backward and his eyelids flutter as if brought to an instant orgasm with that single touch alone.

He stroked himself vigorously until he felt the pressure build and finally break inside of him, pushing the hot liquid from his cock in projectile spurts across the white tiled wall. He stayed under the spray, panting and leaning against the side of the shower until he heard his Uncle holler his name once more from downstairs.

Still reeling from the potent orgasm, he stumbled down the stairs and began preparing breakfast for his unappreciative family. He was busy spooning eggs onto the plates when Dudley barreled into the kitchen but stopped mid run and stared at Harry strangely.

He tried to ignore him, but Dudley persisted, never taking his eyes off of Harry through the duration of the meal; even once they were all finished, when Harry stood to wash the dishes, Dudley followed him to the sink.

"Oh Duddikins, you don't need to help him with the cleaning," his aunt cooed.

"I want to," he replied. Harry was not the only one surprised by this answer and he watched as the shock faded from Petunia's face and she shrugged. "Such a sweet boy," she mused as she left them alone in the kitchen.

"Look Dudley, if you're planning to beat me up, you best back off. I have my wand," Harry warned.

"Something's different about you," Dudley whispered, closing the distance between them.

Harry's eyes went wide, and his whole body went ridged with discomfort at their close proximity. "You're mad," he whispered, but Dudley only shook his head and grabbed for Harry's arm with one pudgy hand.

"Touch me," he begged.

Harry backed away, his arms extended to ward Dudley off. The gleam in his cousin's eyes was predatory, but not in the way Harry was used to seeing from his cousin when he merely wanted to pound Harry's face. "Just stay away from me," Harry demanded.

"You smell so good," Dudley whispered, ignoring Harry outright and moving closer.

Harry shook his head and made a run for it, bolting out the back door and running as fast as he could to the park. He didn't know what game Dudley thought he was playing, but he was acting insane and Harry had to keep away from him. After a moment of thought, he summoned his broom and took off toward the Burrow, deciding not to face Dudley again and figuring it would be easier to come back for the rest of his things in the middle of the night while the rest of them slept.

Authors Note: So who wants an S&M tattoo (I really liked it since it not only stands for the obvious, but also the initials of the club and the owners…)


	2. Different Strokes

**Authors Note: Many thanks to my beautiful beta Laurel, who despite her lack of enthusiasm to visualize Professor Snape naked, has agreed to beta this story for me. (Though I think she's secretly enjoying it.. lol) And yes, though there is no Snape smut to attack you just yet, there is lots to come soon, but as I'm sure you all know by now I refuse to write smut without a decent plotline to back it. Not that I frown upon PWP, it's just not me. If you're not a fan of Snape (as I know a lot of you are not) please refrain from flaming this story. Just don't read it if you know it's going to turn you away. I mean no offense to my loyal D/H readers, I just wanted to branch out a tad. lol. (plus it won't be all about Snape, so if you can get through the squicky parts the story will be fun, I promise)**

Chapter 2 Different Strokes

Draco's head lolled back and he groaned at the pleasure building in his groin. He looked down briefly at the head bobbing in his lap and smirked. Pansy had practically fallen to her knees and pleaded to suck his cock, and Draco could only chuckle to himself at her desperation. She almost made a full time job out of pleasuring him often, but as usual she never remembered it afterwards.

This time would be no different.

As soon as she was finished, he would erase her memory and be done with her until he needed her again. Although, it didn't really _need_ to be Pansy. Ever since Draco had come into his inheritance, students practically lined up at his feet for a chance to be with him.

Each one promising to fulfill his every dream and desire, but all of them falling short. At first it had been fun, having his way with his housemates, boys and girls alike, he would fuck them or let them suck him off, but nothing ever appeased the raging beast inside of him.

It soon became tedious.

It turned into a need, a chore, instead of something that should have been fun and enjoyable like the degradation of fellow students usually was to Draco.

The orgasm took him off guard and he thrust roughly one final time into Pansy's delicate mouth. Almost at once he fastened his trousers and smirked, aiming his wand at her face. "Obliviate," he whispered.

She looked confused for a moment and then ran her tongue across her lips. "I have the weirdest taste in my mouth," she mused.

Draco only laughed and went to join his housemates in the common room. He was displeased to find that the pressure was already rebuilding inside him and would soon be begging for release only hours after he sated it.

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"I won't do it. I won't," Harry chanted to himself like a mantra.

He had been staring at Ron, who was sleeping and blissfully unaware of his friend's predicament. Staring at Ron was harmless enough; he was Harry's best mate after all. The problem came with what Harry was thinking about while he stared at him.

He longed to shove himself deep inside the redhead, bury his cock to the hilt in his arse.

It was a horrid and unnatural thought and, luckily for Harry, Ron was oblivious. It wasn't just Ron though. Ever since the morning he had fled the Dursley's this urge was building inside of him and with every minute that passed the option of resisting grew slimmer. Everyone he met, or felt close to, was suddenly fulfilling erotic fantasies in his mind.

What was worse was the fact that some of them even expressed a want to do so.

Ginny was the first. He had arrived at the Burrow by lunchtime and as soon as she saw him she leapt upon him, pulling him with her to her room. "Harry," she had moaned. "You smell delicious, Harry."

Thankfully he had pulled away in time to avoid her older brothers catching wind of the situation, but it didn't alleviate his fears. It happened more and more with less likely people each time. When Fred and George cornered him in the pantry asking to see his wand, Harry knew things were getting out of control.

It wasn't pretty.

Through the entire ordeal at the Burrow, Harry kept telling himself that things would get better as soon as they got to Hogwarts, but at the Welcoming Feast, he was propositioned no less then a dozen times by students he had never even met before.

Harry had resisted, but the temptations only grew more intense the longer he ignored them. Even now, as he watched his poor unsuspecting friend sleep, he knew that before long he would snap and there was no telling what, or _who_, he would do.

The most horrifying fantasy popped unbidden into his mind after classes had started; Harry found himself slipping into a daydream where he had Professor Snape bent over his own desk. When he opened his eyes, his most hated teacher was watching him curiously and with a twinge of lust.

It was disgusting but there didn't seem to be a thing he could do to stop it.

Harry had to do something about this unusual situation because it was getting out of control, and so, yet again, he found himself sneaking into the bathroom to jerk himself to completion. He didn't understand what was happening to him, and he wanted it to stop. It couldn't possibly be normal despite what Hermione said about teenage boys and their hormones.

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Draco was the king of Slytherin. Head Boy, and the heir to the longest running pureblood family in England, he was virtually untouchable. The pureblood Malfoy lineage would die with his father, however, because his son's blood wasn't quite as pure as Lucius would have everyone believe; a fact that Draco found endlessly amusing.

When his parents first told him of his true lineage he had been angry and despondent. His mother was a Succubus, a trait he was unable to escape; she had passed the gene down to him, and thus, on his seventeenth birthday he would become a part of the Incubi -or rather a Cambion, half wizard half Incubus, just like Merlin himself. As a result, he would have the characteristics of both, but no one really knew which traits he would inherit and which would remain dormant in his bloodline.

He could think of worse things, of course, than becoming an Incubus, but the very idea that he was not a pureblood wizard, as he was proudly brought up to believe he was, rankled him still.

Though even Draco had to admit that inheriting his mother's line had its benefits. For instance, now that he had achieved adulthood, he would not age the same as other humans; instead he would age one year of every twenty-five years that went by. His mother was over six hundred years old and didn't look a day over forty.

Unfortunately, one of the things he had been most excited about, his enhanced sexuality, turned out to be more of a curse than a blessing. No one in the whole of Hogwarts had yet to truly sate him and it was slowly, but surely, driving him mad.

He was so frustrated over it that recently he had been denying himself even the lowly pleasures of letting Pansy near him and was now feeling the repercussions of that decision. He didn't have time to drag her into a broom cupboard right now though, as he was already nearly late for potions.

Draco entered the classroom holding his books in front of his pressing erection and took his usual seat in the back of the class. He was pleased to note that he wasn't the last person to enter the classroom when Potter shuffled in after him, thus earning him a scolding from the professor and ten points from Gryffindor.

The usual glee didn't find Draco as the boy hero was called out for misconduct however, and this displeased him even further. He was far too distracted by his growing libido and angry that he wouldn't get a chance to relieve it until lunch, which was still several hours away. He had no idea how painful it might get before then; even now it felt as though someone was slowly skinning him alive with a dull blade.

Snape wrote the day's potion assignment on the board and went back to his desk, watching through narrowed black eyes as the students gathered their things, and began working on the Anti-Calamity potion.

All was going well as Draco managed to put aside his lustful thinking for enough time to concentrate on his potion, which was the appropriate shade of canary yellow. That was until Snape made his first rounds.

The Professor billowed up the aisles and with him came the most alluring aroma Draco had ever had the pleasure of smelling. He bunched his hands into fists and placed them firmly in his lap, barely able to resist the fragrance of his potions professor when he leaned in and assessed Draco's work thus far.

"Perfect, Draco, as always," the man cooed beside him and Draco could only nod curtly, unable to even look the man in the eye.

He began to wonder just how unseemly would it be to take advantage of his head of house the same way he had done with nearly all of his housemates and a collection of students from other houses? He respected the Potions Master immensely, but surely not even Snape could fault him if he took what he needed, it was the Slytherin way after all, and there was no need for Snape to even remember it.

Sure, he wasn't attractive per say, but then neither was Pansy, and what did it really matter? It was just a means to an end. Surely the tantalizingly sweet fragrance of the man meant something, and perhaps he would even sate Draco's hunger for longer than most.

He thought about it through the rest of class, and by the time Snape dismissed everyone, Draco was painfully hard. After the last of the students cleared out, Draco approached his potential new victim with a wicked grin.

"Sir, I was wondering if I could enlist your assistance in a little problem of mine," he asked coolly.

The professor licked his lips and nodded curtly, making Draco ache with need. "I'm sure I can help my favorite student with whatever might ail him," he replied at last, his eyes fixated suddenly on Draco's groin.

"You know don't you?" Draco asked at once, taken aback by Snape's leer.

"I know what you are," Snape corrected.

Draco closed the distance between them and grabbing fistfuls of the potion master's robes. "And you don't care?" he breathed, both intrigued and aroused by the idea of bedding his mentor.

Severus shook his head and leaned into the boy, running a hand over his pulsing erection and lingering near the clasp of his trousers. "How have you been relieving your hunger?" he asked at last.

"Any way I can," Draco panted, his eyelids flickering from the touch of his potions master's pasty hand.

"Have you just been fucking others, or do you let someone else fuck you?" Snape asked.

Draco looked affronted and stepped away from the dark haired man. It was painful to do so, but Snape's comment filled him with a trepidation that Draco wouldn't deny. "No one fucks a Malfoy," he sneered.

"You'll never be truly sated unless you let someone in, which means true intimacy in every way," Snape told him, eyes still full of lust.

"Father never said that," Draco replied skeptically, suddenly nervous of the professor's intentions. Mother had never told him anything like this, and he was beginning to wonder what the professor was playing at.

"You're father doesn't want you to move past this stage and into the next, not yet. I, however, think that you deserve it," Snape replied.

"What's the next stage?" Draco asked, very curious. His nerve endings were begging Draco to touch the man again but he shoved the urge away. Even if what Snape said was a lie, it would make for a good conversation topic with his father the next time he checked in. He was genuinely intrigued, and if what Snape said was true, he might even be willing to give himself away to this man that smelled so sweet, Except that he no longer smelled as sweet as he had before… Draco balked as he suddenly realized it wasn't the fragrance of Snape at all that had caught his attention.

That intoxicating scent no longer lingered in the room, so it must have been another student. He gave the man one final scrutinizing look and walked away briskly, leaving the sallow professor to gape after him. He had to find that fragrance again –he just had to.

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Harry was perpetually distracted. The air seemed to buzz with noises that all blended together into a mess of sound that made Harry's ears feel like they might be bleeding. His entire body ached with a pressure that could easily be likened to several dragons sitting on him all at once and his skin burned from the inside out. For that one blissful moment that he could sneak away and touch himself the world stopped, and so did the pain, but only in that instant of orgasm, and right afterward it all came rushing back like a torrent of ice cold water in his veins.

He was wandering the corridors after lunch when he felt a warm arm thread through his own and he looked over into the chocolate brown eyes of his best friend. "Alright, Harry?" Hermione asked sweetly.

"F-fine," Harry stammered. So far both she and Ron seemed to be two of the few people who weren't acting strangely towards him, still Harry worried that at any moment his friends would snap and he'd have to steer clear of them as well.

"You've been acting strangely for weeks, Harry," Hermione noted observantly.

"I don't know what's wrong with me, Mione," Harry groaned. He had mentioned his affliction briefly to Ron, who turned around and told his girlfriend. It was odd having his best friend and Ron's girlfriend as the same person, and he hadn't really wanted Hermione to find out at the time. But, now that she knew grateful to have someone else to talk to about it, even if there was no way for her to understand completely.

"Still the same?" she asked and Harry nodded. "Well, I suppose Ron and I need to work on getting you shagged, eh?"

Harry was thankful that he wasn't eating or drinking anything when she said that because he would have surely choked. "Hermione?!" he hissed in chastisement. "Girls shouldn't talk that way." He didn't really believe that, but he certainly didn't want Hermione talking like that to _him_… it just seemed wrong.

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. "So, what king of girl are we finding for you?" she asked, ignoring his statement.

"I don't want- I mean I do- but not like this, this is… no one deserves me like this," he groaned. He didn't know what would actually happen if he had his way with someone; the way he felt right then he might just fuck a hole right through them and never stop. Harry didn't want to hurt anyone.

"Nonsense, Harry. You're a catch. I'm sure, with a little advertising, girls will be lining up to date you," she countered.

That was the other problem. The problem he hadn't spoken to anyone about yet, not even Ron. It had been fairly easy to stave off Ginny, she was cute and sweet, but after the war they agreed to go their separate ways. He had politely, but firmly, refused her coming onto him the day he arrived at the burrow. Later that week however, when he was cornered in the pantry with Fred and George, he was seriously tempted to have a go with them.

At first he thought it was just the confusion of his ailment and the closeness he felt for the Weasley family clouding his decision-making skills. It wasn't until later though, when he arrived back at Hogwarts, and had dozens of new bodies vying for his attention, that he realized he wasn't attracted to any of the girls.

It appeared that he was gay, and it mortified him. He had no idea how he would tell his friends, his adopted family, or how he would even deal with the fact himself. The urges he felt were unnatural, unwanted, but too powerful to deny. To actually act on it was out of the question though. All he needed was to experiment with someone and have it leak to the _Prophet_, or even worse, _Witch Weekly,_ that the Savior was a flamer! He thought it best, until he got everything sorted out, to just forget that he had a cock, let alone to think about someone else's, but that was proving difficult, if not impossible, with his current affliction.

All he thought about was sex. When he passed a bloke in the hall he wondered what they looked like under their school robes. When he ate lunch in the Great Hall he thought about whether Neville screamed in bed as loud as he snored, or if he should have just let the twins have their wicked way with him at the Burrow. Once, he even grew curious enough to wonder what someone like Draco Malfoy was like to shag. Rumor had it he was quite the lothario and Harry imagined that if there was anyone in the school that could teach him a thing or two about sex it was Malfoy, but he was also the least likely person that Harry would ever approach on the subject- or any other for that matter.

"Please don't do that, Mione. I'm not ready to date anyone," he reasoned.

With a sigh Hermione nodded and slipped her arm out from under Harry's. "Fine, I get it. I know the war was probably brutal for you, Harry, but you're going to have to move on eventually."

"I know," Harry replied, wishing that it were only post-traumatic stress and not something far worse.

"Well, let me know when you are ready and I'll do what I can, okay?" she offered brightly. Harry nodded meekly and she took off in the direction of the library. Harry continued to wander aimlessly through the castle until a violent yell took him off guard and he looked over just in time to see a streak of blonde fall on him and pull him into the boy's restroom. He shouted to no avail since the bathroom and corridor outside it were empty. In a flash lips were on his and a pair of unfamiliar hands began reaching for the clasp on his trousers.

It was too much, the sensations that filled Harry felt like they were nearly spilling over and he kissed the stranger back, unable to even see the boy's face from their close proximity. When a hand closed around his shaft, Harry gasped and his head fell backward as he relaxed into the pleasure of the experience.

"Harry, I've wanted this since the second you stepped on that train," the boy groaned and the thick Irish accent pulled Harry back into reality enough that he could shove the boy away.

"Seamus, what the hell are you doing?" he gasped.

"You didn't seem to mind a second ago," Seamus replied, stalking ever nearer to close the distance Harry had placed between them.

"Seamus, stop! This isn't you, you don't know what you're doing," Harry pleaded, inching slowly toward the door.

"I know exactly what I'm doing. I want you Harry," he whispered and made another grab for the raven-haired boy, but it was too late. Harry had turned and ran as fast as he could, away from the hunger that accosted him when he thought of throwing his housemate to the ground and shagging him senseless.

The violent thud of his shoes echoed in the corridor and his heart thrummed loudly in his chest, so loudly that he didn't hear the approach of another set of feet. His mind was racing at a hundred miles a minute and he was concentrating so hard on getting away that he didn't notice the sharp clearing of a throat just ahead of him. He was so worried about Seamus following him that, as he ran, he looked back at where he had been, rather that ahead at where he was going, so it was not surprising that he missed the ominous figure lurking straight ahead.

"Oof," Harry grunted as he slammed into an immovable object and fell to the ground, straight on his arse.

He looked up and groaned at the obsidian eyes boring down upon him. Harry hoped the floor would simply swallow him up, but his luck failed him yet again. "Sorry, Professor," Harry muttered as he pulled himself up and dusted the back of his robes off.

"You'll be sorrier in my detention, which you'll be attending this Friday after your classes," Snape noted scathingly, his pallid face set in a foul sneer.

"And next Friday," he added and Harry's mouth fell open.

"But professor," he began to argue, only to be cut off once more by the Potion Master's smooth voice.

"And the Friday after that as well. Any other arguments?" he asked and Harry shook his head quickly.

"Excellent," Snape muttered and spun on his heel and strode away, leaving Harry alone to watch after him and chastise himself about the incident with Seamus. The whole school would know about it soon enough and it would follow Harry for quite sometime he suspected.

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Authors note: Yes, the smut is coming, however I hope to have painted a detailed picture of how drastically different these two boys handle the same problem. Next chapter is titled: Resistance is Futile…


	3. Resistance is Futile

Authors Note: Many thanks to my beta Laurel, who despite her reluctance to read a SS pairing is still working on this for me. Hopefully that's a good sign. This fic is going to move fast because there is a lot of ground to cover, so buckle up. And now on to the smut!

Chapter 3 Resistance is Futile

Draco spent what felt like ages tracking the scent he had been so entirely attracted to in Potions three days ago. Every moment he wasn't in classes he spent roaming the halls trying to pick up even a whiff of the intoxicating aroma, but had very little luck. He'd discovered the fragrance several times, but never the owner of it. Once he had followed it into the boy's bathroom and it was so potent there that Draco knew he had been within moments of finally capturing his prize. It was terribly frustrating and painfully distracting.

He had failed to complete every single homework assignment given to him since he first discovered that there was someone out there that could diminish the beast within him and hoped his father's pull would be enough to allow him to graduate on time. Though the pain that burned within him made the idea of schoolwork and even graduating at all seem quite trivial. Draco knew in his heart that what he suspected was true –the owner of that scent was the mate his mother had told him about. Narcissa was a full-blooded Succubus, not a half-breed like himself, so she never needed a mate. Her blood was true enough to give her the lasting life her kind were known for, but for Draco that life would be cut short if he was to go without his pre-determined mate for too long.

Given their long lifespan, too long could be anywhere from years to decades to even centuries; it was different with each pair, but Draco had no want to leave these things to chance. He wanted to find his mate and take them for his own, knowing it would finally quench the thirst that flowed deep inside him. He didn't know how so many of his kind went for years without the peace a mate would bring –Draco had only been afflicted for a few months and already the beast was driving him mad.

So far he knew it was a male, unless girls frequented the boy's loo as well. The revelation caught him a bit by surprise but Draco gave little thought to it; he'd been with his fair share of boy Slytherin's and enjoyed himself. The other thing he was certain of was that his mate was a student and not one of the staff. He could hardly believe he'd nearly let Snape have his way with him when he wasn't even 'the one'; now that he knew his mate was no near, no other would do.

The only thing that worried him was his suspicion that his mate might be a Gryffindor, but he wasn't one hundred percent sure on this, so he tried not to dwell on it too much and let it ruin his day. It sounded preposterous to him at first, but the more he thought on it the more plausible it became, which he hated. First, there was the fact that he only caught the telltale scent in the classes that he shared with the Gryffindors, and he had already defiled nearly every other seventh year in Slytherin. Secondly, he often felt inexplicably drawn to the Gryffindor tower; he could sense his mate's presence strongly there. He knew that it would be just his luck to be sidled with an over-emotional lion the rest of his nearly immortal life.

Still, Draco could only deal with one thing at a time, and his priority right now was finding his mate to begin with, afterward he could deal with the repercussions of _who_ it was.

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The Great Hall was intolerable. Harry had a headache far worse than any of the pains he used to get through his scar and his veins felt as though they were being plucked from his body, lit on fire, and then crammed back into his flesh as singed up ashes only to be lit ablaze once more. His stomach churned, his ears were constantly assaulted with a shrill buzz, and every inch of his skin from his scalp to the tips of his toes yearned to be touched. Most days Harry attempted to simply grit his teeth and bare the aches so as to not draw additional attention to himself, but lately he couldn't seem to muster up the energy to do even that.

Nothing seemed to help, not even masturbation abated it any longer; his climax would dull the pain slightly, but Harry no longer achieved that moment of true peace anymore. His mind was fatigued from the pain and lack of sleep, while his body craved release in any way he could get it. He knew it wouldn't be long until his urges overwhelmed him and he did something unforgivable.

This thought kept Harry very isolated. Unless he was in class he tried to keep away from people at all times. He frequently opted to avoid high traffic corridors during peak times between classes and meals. Harry's roommates seemed oblivious to the fact that he tended to roam the halls at night instead of pretending to sleep.

Aside from the excruciating pain and the irrational arousal, the scariest thing was that Harry still had no explanation for what was causing any of it. He'd talked Hermione into doing some research, even though she was fairly convinced that it was just hormones, but so far his friend had found nothing of note. There were a few articles on accelerated libidos but always through the use of potions like Viagra, a drug that was somehow leaked to muggles in the form of a little blue pill. Harry assured her that he was taking neither incarnation so the information helped him very little.

Hermione's justifications that it was natural hormone changes caused him even more worry, because what he was feeling couldn't possibly be normal. He'd never heard Ron complain of excruciating, mind-numbing pain every moment of every day, and he was quite certain he would have overheard if one of the other boy's had the compulsion to fuck everything in sight.

Hermione and Ron just couldn't seem to understand why Harry was avoiding everyone, even them somewhat. While his two friends exhibited no flashes of odd behavior around him, Harry still felt as though he might snap and violate one –or both- of them if presented with an opportunity to do so. So it was with relief that Harry made his way to the Potions classroom for his detention that Friday. It made certain that he wouldn't have to fall into long drawn out explanations of his whereabouts or have to slink through the castle trying to hide from all human contact.

Harry's relief was short lived however, the minute he stepped into the dank dungeon classroom and was met with Snape's winning sneer. Normally the man's scathing hatred of him rankled Harry to the core but tonight it was different. As Harry took his usual seat, his entire body responded to the professor as if he were a magnet and Snape was a thick sheet of steel. Clearly denying himself relief from a more preferable partner had its downfall and Harry felt he would be lucky to leave the classroom with his sanity in tact. His own Gryffindor pride was merely assuring that he was going to lose himself to someone he had hated for seven long years.

Snape glided over and handed Harry a massive scroll. "Tonight you'll be writing an essay on the reasons why its important to follow school rules, followed by the reasons you need to obey your superiors," he ordered, his voice slithering over Harry like a silken blanket.

Harry only allowed himself to nod dumbly. He was terrified that if he opened his mouth something like 'take me now' might squeak out. Harry took the parchment while carefully avoiding contact with Snape's fingers and unrolled it in front of him to begin writing out his detention assignment. He did his best to keep his eyes on the parchment and not let his gaze follow the Potion Master's arse as he walked back to his desk.

"Focus, Harry," he whispered to himself and began scratching out his first paragraph. He worked for nearly twenty minutes before he stopped to read over what he had written; his words had him blushing furiously. There on the page he had scrawled out every suggestive fantasy that had run unbidden through his mind during the span of his detention so far. He didn't know how these words ended up written by his hand without his permission, but as he read them over he realized it eliminated any possibility of making it through the night without humiliation. His arousal seemed to grow ever more potent with each new word or phrase that his eyes swept over.

His gaze flicked up to Snape, who was deftly ignoring Harry while he graded papers, and then down to his own yearning cock; it was practically bursting through his trousers and, without much thought, he decided to take a chance. He'd wanked off in Potions class three days prior when the need arose and he wasn't caught then, and that time he had been surrounded by students. Normally Harry wasn't so bold, but the urge was so strong he couldn't resist it.

Carefully he positioned himself so that the scroll covered part of his face and he pretended to keep writing while his left hand snaked down and silently undid the zip of his trousers. He nearly hissed when his cool fingers wrapped around his achingly hot flesh but he managed to disguise it by clearing his throat instead. Up and down he pumped his shaft, biting deeply into his bottom lip to keep from making any sound and trying desperately to keep his eyes open in case Snape looked up. The last thing he needed was for the Potions Master to catch him in the act and have him expelled. Wouldn't that be one for the papers! '_Pervert Potter caught with his dick in his hand'_, yeah, that would be just _perfect._

"Potter!" Snape called out. Harry froze. He nervously glanced up at the Potions Master with guilt clearly written across his face.

He watched as his professor glided up the aisle to where he now sat, his fist still wrapped around his erection, and leaned over him with a sneer. "Care to tell me why you're back here jerking yourself whilst in _my_ detention?" he asked. His voice was calm and level with only a tinge of a growl, but it was enough to make the Gryffindor blanch.

Harry's eyes widened and his mouth and throat went dry, but no explanation, either plausible or farfetched, reached his lips before Snape pulled him up by the back of his robes to face him directly. He tried desperately to cover himself with his robes but with a flick of Snape's wand Harry felt his clothing fall away, torn roughly form his body by a spell he'd never even known existed, and the Gryffindor immediately moved to cover his genitalia from the Potion Master's narrow gaze.

The professor merely chuckled at the vain attempt at modesty and, with another flick of his wand, he had Harry hovering in the air, legs splayed and arms held out at his sides. Harry began to see the room spin, and realized that Snape was rotating him like a sideshow freak, gawking at him from every imaginable angle.

His entire body flushed with a mixture of poorly hidden lust and embarrassment as Snape tapped his wand against Harry's painful erection. "Very impressive specimen for a student," he noted with a smirk. "Who would have known that such a large and perfect member lurked beneath those frumpy robes?"

Another jab to Harry's arse cheeks made him jump, but there was nowhere he could go. Horrifyingly, with every rotation he caught his professor's deep black eyes and a wave of heat washed over him again. Harry had expended so much effort trying not to molest any of his innocent friends that he was now entirely spent. He knew he couldn't resist even if he wanted to, and at the moment he didn't. Finally, as he accepted his fate, the tension he felt at resisting his urges began to melt away while the hated professor ogled and prodded him.

"Quidditch has been good to you," Snape mused out loud, running the tip of his wand along Harry's abdomen and down his inner thighs, causing the boy to shiver.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're enjoying this," Snape chuckled after clucking his tongue sharply teasing him.

Harry whimpered in response, not wanting to give the loathsome man the satisfaction of an articulate answer. He wasn't sure he could find the words needed to beg the Potions Master for release, whether he be permitted to leave the classroom, or through fucking him then and there, he was to the point where it didn't matter which.

The whimper seemed to do more than Harry expected though, as he found himself suddenly on his feet, and with his own free will of movement once more. He wanted nothing more than to flee the room, but he knew that the punishment for trying to escape would be worse than what he had just been put through; though how that could be possible, he did not know.

"Have you been feeling particularly aroused of late, Potter?" Snape asked him seriously. Harry was so humiliated all he could do was nod weakly. "Wanting release, craving it, needing it from anywhere you can find it?" he continued, and Harry nodded again. He finally felt a flicker of hope that someone in this confounded castle might know what was wrong with him.

"And have you been indulging in your wicked fantasies, Potter?" Snape asked him with a sneer. "Fucking your poor oblivious housemates to feed your beast?"

"No!" Harry shouted, finally finding an answer he could give firmly and truthfully. Although his voice still broke under the combination of arousal and embarrassment he felt at the while situation.

Snape chuckled and ran the fingertips of his bare hand along Harry's jaw. "So you have only masturbated to relieve the ache?"

"Yes, Sir," Harry replied, feeling his courage return in light of having withheld from debauching another classmate. He was proud of himself for holding out as long as he had, Merlin knew it was one of the hardest things he had ever done.

But Snape didn't seem to agree that Harry holding back was a good thing at all as he shook his head and clicked his tongue once more. "Well that certainly explains why you can't seem to control your impulses in my classroom."

"I don't know what's wrong with me sir, I just-" Harry began, but Snape promptly cut him off by griping Harry's cock firmly in his fist. Harry gasped, his eyes fluttering shut at the touch; he resisted moaning, but just barely.

"Just can't help yourself?" Snape finished for him. "Yes, I know all about your kind, Mr. Potter, though I never in a million years suspected _you_ would be among their numbers. I take it you have yet to figure out what you are?"

"Please, professor," Harry begged, unsure what he was even begging for. The truth surely, he wanted more than anything to know what was wrong with him and, more importantly, how to fix it, but he also wanted release. He wanted to feel another's touch so that he could sate the thirst that drove him to this madness at the start.

"What a pity Albus failed to tell you of your lineage before he passed," Snape mused.

"Before you killed him you mean?" Harry hissed, his faculties returning enough to counter any insult toward his old mentor and friend.

"You already know why I did what I did, boy," the professor snarled. His grip on Harry's cock tightened and, instead of protesting, all Harry could do was groan his contentment into the dank air of the classroom. "I'll spare you from expulsion and I may even tell you what you are if you do _exactly_ as I say. Do we have an accord?"

Harry nodded dumbly, ready to agree to anything so long at the professor didn't let go of his cock. The feel of his tight grasp made some of the encroaching pain softly fade around the edges. He could think a little clearer and he knew what he needed in that moment was to let the professor have his way with him.

"Undress me," Snape ordered, but as Harry lifted trembling hands to Snape's shirt button to obey he found them forcibly back at his side after a silent spell. "With your teeth," the Potions Master amended with a smirk, his black eyebrows rising until they disappeared behind the shadowy fringe of his hair.

Fumbling and cursing at himself for his clumsiness, Harry reached for the buttons one at a time, slowly with tongue and teeth removing each one from its hole and then moving to the next until the professor's shirt hung loose around him. The Potions Master shook the garment off and gestured for Harry to continue the undressing with his trousers.

After nearly puncturing his lip twice, Harry was finally able to remove the buckle, button and zip holding up Snape's trousers; he watched as they fell from his waist and thighs to pool around his ankles. The professor moved out of them, taking a step back from the Gryffindor, and Harry swallowed thickly as he realized there were no further garments for him to remove, with his teeth or otherwise. His hated Potions Master stood naked and erect in front of him, and Harry found the sight to be more glorious than he had expected.

Harry studied the man's pale physique, which probably rarely saw the light of day considering that, when he wasn't locking himself away in the dungeons, he was wearing multiple layers of century old clothing. Snape was filled out, yet muscular, with slightly jutting hipbones and a flat stomach, both of which led Harry's eyes to the part of the professor's anatomy he was the most curious about.

The Potion Master's prick was average in length, but extremely thick and decorated with throbbing purple veins; nothing like any of the other teenage boys he had seen in the locker room. Harry licked his lips at the sight, overwhelmed with thoughts of what he could do with something like that at his disposal.

Snape chuckled darkly and wrapped his long fingers around it, stroking once and then twice, making Harry nearly salivate to have the same pleasure. "On your knees, Potter," he ordered, and Harry obeyed at once.

"Open your mouth," Snape demanded, a subtle smirk playing at the edge of his own mouth as he watched Harry close his eyes and open wide, as if waiting for Snape to place a candied treat on his tongue.

Instead of a sugary sweet however, Harry got a mouthful of Snape's cock, as the Professor fucked the Gryffindor's perfect pink mouth. Its girth could barely fit, and Harry was swallowing around him while trying to breathe through his nose. After a moment however, the once embarrassed Gryffindor began to get used to the ache in his jaw and the lack of airflow, he started enjoying the task, licking and sucking at Snape's prick in time with the man's impatient thrusts.

The pain that had clouded his mind most of the time these days began to dissipate as he worked on his professor, but he could still feel the warmth build in his groin, begging to be released. He twice attempted to slip his hand down to stroke himself, and was both times warded off with a well placed stinging hex, making his frustration grow as hot as his lust.

Out of his peripheral vision he could see the Potions Master doing something with several flicks of his wand, but he couldn't tell what until he felt a cold object breach his entrance and push its way inside his arse. Instant clarity crashed into him and for a second he wondered what in Merlin's name he was doing, but he quickly regained his composure and started pushing back on the foreign object in order to maintain his faculties and keep the fog at bay. Never in his life had he felt so focused and full of purpose as he had in that moment; not when he was brought into Hogwarts, not when he had to defend his friends and the rest of the world from evil forces and not even on his march into the forest on his way to kill Voldemort once and for all. At last he felt peace, finally he felt as though his destiny was being fulfilled and all at the touch of the man he hated most –it was the worst kind of irony Harry could imagine.

"Harry Potter, savior of the wizarding world indeed," Snape teased harshly. "What would they think if they found out you were just a wanton whore, begging to be fucked?"

Harry wanted to dispute the fact, but it was rather hard to think of a witty comeback when his mouth was filled with the offending person's cock and his arse was filled with Merlin only knew what. So instead he began to deep throat the professor in order to show him that Harry Potter might have some unknown talent yet, even if he was nothing more then a nerve ending, waiting to be rubbed off.

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Draco was on his way back from dinner, winding his way through the dungeon labyrinths when he caught whiff of that sweet and intoxicating aroma he had been chasing all week. He followed it blindly through the corridors, finally ending at the door of the potions classroom once more. He was about to turn away, frustrated once again at being led down the wrong path, when he heard muffled noises from inside and could smell the sweet fragrance intensify.

His prey was inside, someone that would pleasure him in such a way that his senses would return to normal, at least for longer than the average shag had gotten him so far. He was now a creature of want and desire, and nothing would change that, but inside that room was the person that would make it bearable, perhaps even preferable.

When Draco opened the door, however, he was met with the least likely of companions and the most awkward of situations.

On the floor, propped up on his knees, was none other than Harry Potter. At the hero's mouth was Draco's head of house, his fleshy wand thrusting deeply into the boy's face. In the Professor's hand, his magical wand was directing a glass vial used for potion ingredients in and out of Potter's arse, and not a single article of clothing to speak of between them.

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Authors Note: Okay, so I think this is the first time that I've left a cliffhanger in the middle of smut....


	4. Tainted Lust

Authors Note: A million thanks to Laurel for beta'ing this story for me. I left you guys hanging a bit last time, so here is some more raunchy goodness to tide you over. lol

Chapter 4 Tainted Lust

As soon as Draco walked through the Potions classroom door he knew his life had changed. There was no way he could describe how he knew, or even in what way things would change for him but he knew it was irrevocable and massive. There before him, naked and pleasuring the most feared and hated professor at the school –even if he was Draco's personal mentor- was none other that Harry Potter. It was such a compromising position that his Slytherin tendencies kicked in and he momentarily considered an elaborate blackmail scheme, but his libido won out and he knew that when it was all over he wouldn't have a leg to stand on where blackmail was concerned.

Draco shut the door quickly behind him, trying to ignore the fact that he was instantly rock hard from the sight before him and cleared his throat to announce to Snape and Potter that they had company.

Snape's face never betrayed any emotion as he looked over his shoulder at the new arrival, but Potter's eyes went wide and he tried to pull away from Snape's cock, only to be held in place by an Immobilus charm. "Why Mr. Malfoy, so good of you to join us," Snape said, his voice thick with the pleasure that Harry was inflicting upon him.

With a flick of his wand, Draco locked the doors and placed a silencing charm over the room, his gaze never leaving Potter's shocked green eyes.

"I take it that means you wish to participate?" Snape asked, though Draco was sure the professor already knew that his own nature would prevent him from being able to leave an opportunity such as the feast presented there in front of him.

Without a word he walked over and dropped to his knees beside the unlikely pair, leaning over to smell the thick and heady fragrance he had been chasing all day. It was Potter, of course it was, nothing could be as simultaneously fitting and comical as that scent –the scent of his mate- belonging to Draco's longest rival.

He would possess the boy he had spent his whole life hating, and he would take great pleasure in the breaking of the Gryffindor hero. "I'm going to fuck you, Potter," he whispered against Harry's ear, biting into the lobe. "You're going to belong to me."

Harry blinked, unable to respond with his mouth full as it was, but a single tear streaked down his face and Draco felt a moment of pity for his rival's position. Snape must have felt a twinge of it as well, because he released the spell holding Harry against him, and at once the Gryffindor pulled back, massaging his jaw.

His eyelids fluttered as the movement drove the vial Snape had position in his arse even deeper inside of him, but he quickly regained his composure and slipped a furious mask over his face. "It'll take more than that for you to _own_ me, Malfoy," he spat.

Draco smirked at Harry's instant defiance, but instead of lashing out with his fists, or hexing the boy as he might have done before, he crashed into the boy's lips, kissing him deeply and feeling a heat like lava, pool into his groin. Harry moaned against his mouth, at first in protest, but then with the same yearning that Draco felt, his hands scrambling to free Draco of his clothing.

His ran his tongue over Harry's lips, savoring the shape and texture of each one. They were perfect, swollen and delicate under his assault, and he quickly flicked his tongue further into the boy's mouth, pleading for entrance.

The Gryffindor yielded at once and returned the gesture with fervor. A flood of flavors entered his mouth and Draco picked them apart in search of the one he wanted to absorb. He moved through the taste of Snape, past the delicate tones of whatever food Harry had consumed at dinner, and ignored the sugary taste of chocolate from his dessert, all in favor of the taste that was innately Harry; he tasted like he smelled, like ripe berries just begging to be plucked and dipped in cream.

The classroom fuzzed away behind a thick white veil that felt like cool silk against Draco's senses. In the heat of the moment, they had forgotten that the Professor was still present until the man tapped his foot impatiently and sneered down at them. "As much as I enjoy a good show, I'm afraid you've left something unattended," he noted dryly.

Harry broke away from him at Snape's words, and his eyes drifted longingly toward the bobbing rigid cock beside his face. Draco nodded toward the professor's erection and gave Harry a lust filled smile as he watched, savoring the way Harry took the entire girth into his mouth in one go, lapping and moaning around it, but his eyes never leaving Draco as he did.

"Are you just going to watch?" Snape growled, his arse cheeks clenching and releasing with his violent thrusts.

Draco finally pulled his gaze away from Harry's as he shifted behind him, studying Harry's pert round arse and letting his fingertips trail from the small of his back, over his hops and down to the tip of his swollen cock. He rubbed his thumb over Harry's head, and heard the muffled cry sound out from around Snape's cock.

"Oh, yes. He does a brilliant thing with his tongue when you do that," Snape told him thickly, so Draco did it again.

When he ran his sticky fingers down Harry's length he saw the boy's cheeks cave in and Snape's head fell back as Harry sucked him harder. A well place smack on Harry's arse made his entire body jump, and Snape hissed a warning at Harry about teeth.

Draco watched as the glass vial, still miraculously controlled by Snape's wand, pushed its way into Harry's tight hole, stretching the skin as it moved in and out. He glanced up at Snape, who wordlessly understood his intentions and let the charm fall. Draco placed his finger in the vial to begin moving it manually, rocking it slightly and feeling Harry squirm under the influence it had over his senses.

When Draco promptly removed the vial, Harry's whimpers of protest amused him, and he let the boy lean back and back, searching for that penetration once more. He cast a simple lubrication spell and pressed the head of his cock against Harry's entrance, having to hold Harry's hips still in order to keep him from impaling himself straight away.

No, Draco wanted to savor the debauching of Harry Potter. He wanted to feel Harry writhe beneath him, wanted to hear every begging word from his lips, smell his intoxicating scent heighten with every inch he shoved into him.

With the first push he felt his head breach Harry's entrance, and it took more effort to hold Potter back. With the second push, another two inches slid easily into his tight cavity, and by the third push he had to hold himself back, as well as Harry. With the final shove, his entire length was buried inside of Harry, and with a quick movement he pulled completely out and pounded into him again, relishing in the sound of his testicles slapping into the Gryffindor hero's flesh.

Never in his wildest of fantasies had he imagined being able to fuck the Golden Boy in such a manner. He would own Harry before they were done here, and he would laugh to himself as the Gryffindor begged him for more.

Still, it was like nothing he had felt before. No wild exploit could compare with the way he felt being finally melded against his mate. Harry fit against him perfectly, as if they were bred of the same cloth and suddenly Draco knew that his new gifts could be fully explored with the Gryffindor in his bed.

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Harry had never felt so alive as when he was being torn in half from being penetrated at both ends. He had been afraid that being fucked by Draco was going to be painful, the boy was even larger than Severus, but it had been nothing but pleasure as his rival slammed into him repeatedly. He could feel the silken texture of Draco's cock as he entered him, could smell his musky scent all around him, and imagined he could almost taste the Slytherin, even past the other prick he held in his mouth.

Draco smelled like no other, as if the boy encompassed the fragrances of every happy memory Harry had ever experienced. He could close his eyes and imagine a freshly groomed Quidditch Pitch, The Burrow; even the Hogwarts Express just by Draco's unique scent.

All of his senses were heightened, and it was like he could read both of their minds and knew exactly what each wanted him to do. Harry loved giving it to them, loved hearing them moan and grunt with the pleasure he was offering. It was as if with every intoxicated moan the pain Harry had been attempting to stave off for weeks began to dissolve away into a puddle of liquid that pooled in his groin.

The extended pleasure caused him to grow weak and he could no longer keep his palms anchoring him to the ground, so he lifted up slightly, grasping Snape's arse cheeks and pulling them apart with violent movements in time with his mouth as he sucked him off, deep and hard.

With a loud groan, Snape pulled himself out of Harry's mouth and began jerking himself to completion. Harry almost protested at the loss of him until the professor aimed the head of his cock at Harry's mouth and thick white liquid coated his tongue and throat. He swallowed it down, savoring the taste and blinked with surprise as he found himself being moved by Draco into a standing position.

"Time to take care of Potter's _big_ problem," Draco ordered.

Snape scoffed and began walking away as Draco, cock still embedded inside the Gryffindor, moved him toward one of the desks that he longed to see Harry bent over. "I don't kneel for anyone," Snape noted with a sneer.

"You kneel for my father," Draco replied with a knowing smile.

The Potion Master's face turned a brilliant shade of red as he bowed to Draco mockingly and fell to his knees in front of Potter's painfully throbbing erection. Snape's mouth enveloped Harry and a whimpering scream was pulled from the boy's mouth as the Potion's master showed his expertise with a quick and proficient tongue.

Every thrust from Draco pushed Harry forward into Snape's waiting mouth, and the sensation brought Harry to climax nearly instantly. As he came, hot liquid being swallowed down his most hated professor's throat, he clenched around the intrusion in his arse and Draco hissed as his own orgasm was pulled from him as if it were a corporeal thing that Harry physically tugged from his body.

Harry smiled at the clearness flowing through his mind. He was free of the inappropriate animal that had been clawing its way to the surface, free of the feeling that he was a perverted freak, and no longer the quivering sex fiend of just an hour ago.

Unfortunately, it took an act that crossed all his carefully erected boundaries and with the two people he cared for least in the whole world.

Now that his mind was no longer one giant erogenous zone, he was curious as to what he should do next as Malfoy rested, collapsed against Harry's back and panting, and Snape stared down at him, having stood up once more.

It then occurred to him that he was owed answers. "What am I?" he asked the professor, his voice cracking slightly from recent activities.

"He doesn't know?" Draco asked the Potions Master.

The older man chuckled as he redressed himself. "Potter, you really need to learn how to negotiate."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Harry asked petulantly, arms crossing over his bare chest.

"It means that had you been a Slytherin you would have demanded answers before giving me what I wanted," Snape informed him snidely. "As it stands I have very little motivation to let you in on my little secret."

"It's not a secret," Malfoy interrupted. "I'm the same as you, Potter."

"Are you suddenly becoming sentimental?" Snape sneered. "For years you've hated this boy and a quick shag makes you forget everything? I thought you were stronger than that."

"It's hardly being sentimental, Professor. My mother told me and he doesn't have that luxury. He should know what he is," Draco responded with narrowed eyes.

"If it's so important to you, Draco, fell free to tell him yourself," Snape chided. "He'll find out one way or another because your father will be most interested in this particular specimen," he added, running his thumb across the Gryffindor's cheek, but Harry pulled away into the unlikely and waiting arms of Draco Malfoy.

The blonde held Harry close and possessively as if now that their rendezvous was over he no longer wanted the Professor touching his prize; clearly the Slytherin didn't realize that no one owns Harry Potter. He wrenched himself from Malfoy's grasp, but the moment he pulled away from him the blissful curtain of peace folded aside to let the pain pour back in. Malfoy ground his teeth together and winced as he grabbed for Harry's hand, but was denied. Regardless of the pain that settled over his body, Harry refused to be a part of this twisted game any longer. There had to be another way –a method that didn't involve him being touched or fucked by Malfoy- that would still keep the pain at bay. He still didn't know what was wrong with him, but, maybe now that he had a little more information, Hermione could find something.

Though how he was going to tell her about what happened here, he had no idea.

With shaking movements and a few _Accio_ spells Harry found all of his clothing and began to get dressed. "Potter, wait. You can't just leave like this," Malfoy announced. The boy was shifting back and forth on his feet as if he had to piss, his face screwed up in a way that made him look pained. Harry almost reached out, almost took the boy's hand –the contact it seemed would be beneficial to them both after all.

But in the end he decided against it, he finished dressing and marched to the door. If he found a way to abate the agony his body was inflicting upon him then he would tell Malfoy about it, but he couldn't be a part of this wicked debauchery.

He'd just lost his virginity to the two men he hated most in the entire world –Harry needed to be alone… and he needed a shower.

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Draco fell to his knees despair the moment the door shut behind Harry. He barely even acknowledged that a still nude Snape was sneering down at him, and tuned out the sound of the Potion Master's voice as he lectured Draco on the idiocies of getting tied to Potter. It was far too late for that though. He was bound irretrievably to the Gryffindor brat and vice versa, or so he had been told.

His mother talked about the act of finding his mate as a romantic thing, like the fairytale draw of a knight to his tower bound princess. But Potter was no damsel in distress and while Draco himself was also reluctant to accept that the Gryffindor Golden Boy was the one meant for him, he couldn't deny the pull the raven-haired boy had on him. The very second Potter stepped away the flood of pain crashed back on him like a tidal wave. Draco had found his mate, but in the same moment had been rejected.

He just knew the Gryffindor must have felt it too. He could see the way the boy trembled as he slowly slipped back into his clothing, he could see the confusion glimmering in those pools of green, but still he walked away, batting aside Draco's proffered hand for the second time and left the room.

How could Potter be so much more strong-willed than himself? How could he not give in when the answer to all his problems was packaged and delivered straight to his doorstep? Mother never warned him that this could happen. No doubt she assumed that anyone normal wouldn't stand a chance against the lure of Malfoy beauty and charm, but Potter wasn't exactly normal.

"Well now what," he sighed to himself, running his hands through his sweat soaked hair.

"Was he really so good that you crumble to the floor like an infant?" a voice asked, and Draco whirled to glare at his Head of House, having forgotten where he was or even that he had company in the wake of his confusion and distress.

"Potter's my mate," he hissed, narrowing his eyes in anger.

There was no sympathy in the older man's obsidian eyes, and only harsh laughter reached Draco's ears. "Well I suppose Potter wasn't the only one getting fucked tonight, was he?" Snape teased crudely. "Good luck with that one."

"What would you know?" Draco scoffed. "He'll come around, he'll have to." Though, Draco wasn't entirely certain that was true. Could Potter just keep resisting until it killed them both? If anyone could it was the Gryffindor hero for sure.

"I know that you'll be fighting your father for him," the older man replied. "You know Lucius will want Potter for the company."

Draco didn't know a lot about what his father did, but he could make well educated guesses. He'd never seen the place but the very name 'Madame Scarlet's' evoked images of women grinding in men's laps and orgies in every corner. He had a hard time believing that his father would be involved with something like that when Draco knew he preferred his public appearance to remain that of a proper pureblood gentleman, but Draco knew that his father preyed on Incubi men and Succubus women for his elite club of wealthy clients and, since Draco knew first hand the veritable talents of his kind, he felt pretty confident he knew what his father was up to. No doubt people would pay handsomely to fuck the one and only Harry Potter, and if his mate continued to resist than he would find himself begging for it.

The idea of his father using Potter this way made Draco irrationally sick to his stomach. On any other day he'd find the irony amusing. Little Harry Potter survived killing the world's darkest wizard only to become a willing sex slave to the Malfoy's –it was priceless, really. But now it seemed different and significantly less humorous.

There on the floor, Draco wondered to what ends he might have to go to in order to protect his mate from his own flesh and blood, and worse still –could he hold his own against the man who made him or would he crumble in failure at the feet of Malfoy duty and blood obligation?

Potter did reject him after-all, was he even worth fighting for?

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Authors Note: So yes, this story moves quickly, but that's because there are a lot of bases to cover. So hold on to your trousers!


	5. Broken

Author's Note: Many thanks to my beta, Laurel who I have entirely overwhelmed with my frequent updates. Now that I've injured all of your minds with Snape/Harry/Draco smut, I'll get back to the plot.

Chapter 5 Broken

A bell rang sharply throughout Madame Scarlet's bringing the lobby mistress to the door. "Hello Sir," she chimed as she opened the door wider to allow him entrance. "May I help you in any way?" Her voice had dropped in octave as she pulled the wiry gentleman out of the cold London air and into a side parlor. She was careful to lean over him when she offered him a seat in order to give him a prime view of her ample bosom.

"I'm here for your services," he replied gruffly.

"And the password?" she asked daintily.

"Master Slytherin's House," he offered and she smiled brightly in response.

"Is this your first time visiting Madame Scarlet's or do you have a favorite?" she inquired, sitting on his lap and grinding ever so slightly against his groin.

"I usually see Abigail," he replied with a stifled groan from her movements.

"Oh, what a shame. Abby is otherwise engaged at the moment, but I can bring you a sampling of our other girls," she told him, holding out what looked to be a thin playing card she had pulled from her pocket. She flipped the card over and over and each time a new face appeared on each side, alternating between fit young men and savory young women.

"That one looks promising," he mused and she noted the name and face of the girl he had chosen, but when she continued to flip the card he pointed out two others as well.

"Should I bring them up for you to see in person?" she offered.

He nodded sharply, the edges of his mustache forming a slight grin.

"I'll be right back then," she cooed and with one last shift of her hips, the girl bounced from his lap and into the other room. None of the employees were permitted access to the concubine lounge without the assistance of one of the owners. Lucius was almost always there, even though the dark-haired man only visited occasionally, so she headed upstairs to the main office and knocked firmly.

"Come in," boomed the arrogant tone of her boss and she pushed the door open and stepped inside. She hadn't been inside the office for any length of time and she always noticed something new each time she had need to fetch Lucius. This time her eyes caught a golden framed portrait of a beautiful woman with pale blonde hair and a tight joyless smile.

"Is this your sister?" she remarked, easily seeing a resemblance.

"That, Patricia is my wife," he replied with a sneer and she paled slightly. Before she could begin to apologize however, he gestured for her to shut her mouth. "I assume you have another purpose to be in my office aside from taking it upon yourself to examine my personal belongings," he spat.

She nodded quickly. "Yes Sir. There is a gentleman downstairs who would like to inspect three of our ladies because Abby is otherwise… indisposed."

He let his head fall back in mild annoyance and made a gesture that Patricia didn't quite understand until a full head of chestnut hair emerged from beneath Lucius' desk. "We'll resume this later, Ludwig. Clients needs before my own."

Ludwig bowed and wiped at the corner of his mouth before taking his leave. Patricia felt she should have been used to seeing nude men wander around the place but it always caught her breath a bit.

"Stop drooling girl and tell me who he's chosen," Lucius barked. She immediately paled and showed him the three women the client had chosen. "Very good, that will be all then. See to it our guest has a drink and keep him company while I fetch our ladies."

She left swiftly before he had the opportunity to ask anything more of her. She knew from experience that Lucius didn't require sexual favors from any of the non-magical women, but occasionally he would take his anger out on them. She had been presumptuous with her questions and wanted to steer clear of any punishment.

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At the bottom of the stairs Lucius doubled back to a little side hall that seemingly led nowhere. In the dark recesses of the narrow corridor there was an iron wall with several locks on one side, seven locks to be precise. Lucius took a heavy keychain from his robe pocket and started with the topmost lock, turning it to the right and hearing the telltale click that urged him to move on to the next in sequence. He continued this, opening each lock with a different key, until every latch was opened and then he pushed the massive iron door aside where it slid into the wall and virtually disappeared.

There were two steep staircases leading down into the basement –or the concubine lounge for which it was often called. At the bottom of these stairs was a wall made of windows and a single glass door set inside of it with another set of locks securing it; this time twelve. It was a bit of a pain to go through this process every single time he needed one of his slaves, but it saved him from having to worry that one of them might escape or that a client might accidentally stumble down here. The locks had to be attended to manually, no spell or magical force could break through them without exhausting the spell caster beyond measure.

As he was unlocking the numerous latches, Lucius spied through the glass at his wanton group. The room inside was clad in brushed silk curtains along every wall and the floor was littered with plush pillows and cushions. The colors of plum, deep red and gold reminded him of a brief encounter he'd had in a Moroccan brothel. There on the ground, luxuriating in the fine fabrics were fourteen of the world's finest specimens in human form. He watched as they writhed, men and women alike, against one another, a sea of creamy flesh and shining hair.

As soon as he opened the final lock, he cracked open the door and the sounds hit him. Moans, growls, panting and screaming accosted him as he scanned the crowd of sweat slicked bodies. He enjoyed watching them roiling in pleasure. A quick look showed him the three women he wanted and he went up to the first. Rebecca, her curly chocolate brown hair was sprawled behind her on a velvet cushion while their newest addition, Jonathan, lapped at her creamy white breasts; she whimpered when Lucius shoved Jonathan away. The boy frowned but soon spotted a trio of men he decided to join instead. With a rough yank to her upper arm, Lucius pulled Rebecca to her feet and slapped a metal collar around her neck before leading her with a leash over to his next girl.

Ginger's skin was the color of a moonless night and her eyes shone golden like a cats in the dimly lit room. She was impaling herself upon a thick stud of a man when Lucius grabbed her by the back of the neck and hauled her to her feet. "Fuck!" she shouted in pain and frustration, clamoring to grab a hold of her thick meaty prize once more, but Lucius clicked her collar into place and she went almost limp in his embrace.

The next girl, Anne was busy pleasuring Gregory with her tongue while another young man had several fingers inside Greg's arse. A nice grip on her flaxen hair made her easy to lift and as soon as the collar went on, she too was as tame as a kitten. With a shimmering strap Lucius led the women upstairs, locking the doors securely behind him, and brought them into the small parlor where his client awaited.

"Ah Mr. Pompleroy, had I known it was you I would have brought our newest arrival up as well," Lucius offered.

He may as well not have been speaking though, for Mr. Pompleroy only had eyes for the luscious naked women at his side.

"See one that you fancy?" he asked with a smirk and his client practically salivated his response.

"How much for all three?" he asked and Lucius grinned wickedly.

"A wise man," he praised. "I'm sure we can work something out. Patricia, please lead the ladies and Mr. Pompleroy into the Scarlet suite." His little muggle servant rushed off, grabbing the magical leash from Lucius and leading the girls and the prestigious client upstairs while Lucius went to the topmost floor and unlatched the door to the room across from his office.

There, hanging from thick iron shackles was a woman with several glowing red wounds. She hung limply in her binds, her pale hair streaked with blood her face set in a tortured mask. "Ah, my dear Abigail," Lucius whispered, and her head snapped up at the sound, her eyes widening with shock. "Mr. Pompleroy was here for you, but I'm afraid you may have lost him to a new trio."

Her voice was breathy and hoarse when she spoke, her lips cracked with blood. "Please. I need it, please," she rasped.

"Have you been a good girl?" Lucius asked in a singsong voice. "Have you decided to stop rallying the others against me?"

She nodded weakly, her body sagging in her binds, offering up her defeat. "Please," she whispered again, and Lucius flicked his wand in her direction and she fell instantly to her knees.

"What do you offer in exchange for my kindness?" he asked, pacing the floor in front of her.

"Anything," she moaned. "Anything, just please make it stop."

He knew the inferno that consumed his charges at both ends when they were denied release, but still Lucius waited eyeing her curiously to see what she would do. Abigail scrambled across the floor and lunged at Lucius' belt buckle, undoing it with quick and practiced movements before taking his swollen cock into her mouth. She tasted him deeply, letting him thrust down her throat and she whimpered as the pain subsided. After a moment, as he had already been thrusting inside the tight mouth of Ludwig earlier, he came violently aiming it at her breasts and laughing as she hissed in pain when the creamy white liquid coated her open wounds.

He then refastened his trousers and left the room, locking it behind him and leaving her there to be punished further. Lucius knew that since she was left unchained, she could pleasure herself, but he also knew that it wasn't quite the same relief as being pleasured by another.

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Hermione stared slack jawed at her best friend, who she had finally found lying in a sobbing heap on the floor. Harry hadn't shown up for any of the days meals, and Ron couldn't recall him having come back after his detention the night before. Snape swore Harry was intact when he abruptly left his scheduled detention and told Hermione to inform Harry that he would receive an additional detention for leaving without his permission.

She and Ron had searched everywhere, all four turrets and any classroom they could get into, all to no avail. They couldn't even find Harry's map to assist them, their friend had hidden it quite well. It wasn't until later that day while attempting to study in the library for Ancient Runes, when Luna mentioned the upcoming Quidditch game that Hermione thought about the pitch. Not even bothering to round up Ron, Hermione bolted as quick as she could to the grounds where Harry so loved to fly, but couldn't see him anywhere. She began fearing that perhaps Harry was hiding under his invisibility cloak when she decided to check one last place –the locker rooms.

That was where she found him -in the showers to be exact. He was nude and shivering under a spray that had long gone cold. In the many years she had known Harry Potter, stood by his side and fought back to back with him, she had never seen him look so broken. He didn't look at her as she approached, didn't even acknowledge her existence. Instead he stared off into the distance, his green gaze made glossy and bloodshot with tears.

At once she turned off the water, not wanting him to freeze to death. "Harry?" she whispered, inching closer, unsure of what else to do or how to handle her distraught friend.

"It hurts," Harry rasped, his voice cracking as if he'd been screaming for hours.

"What hurts?" Hermione asked, rushing to his side to inspect for bodily harm.

"Everything. It all hurts so badly, but I can't go back again. I can't do that again," he cried, burying his face in his pruned hands.

"You have to tell me what's going on, Harry. I can't help you if I don't understand," she pleaded.

"I can't stop seeing his face," Harry moaned. "His stupid sneer and his adoring eyes."

"Harry, you're rambling. Please, I need you to talk to me."

"He's beautiful and he smells so good, like the only bloom in a desert. But I can't, I can't do it again," Harry whined, clutching his knees to his chest.

"Who are you talking about?" she begged. She couldn't understand what was happening and she was beginning to get scared.

"Malfoy," Harry rasped in answer and the name shocked Hermione so badly that she fell backwards from her kneeling stance to land flat on her arse on the still wet floor.

"Did Malfoy do something to you?" she asked angrily. "Did he-" she began, but Harry cut her off with a rough laugh.

"Yes. He did something to me. He opened my eyes," Harry muttered bitterly. He took a deep shuddering breath and looked up at Hermione for the first time since she entered the room. "I'm not normal, Hermione. No matter how much I'd like to be I'm just not, and it seems I never will be."

It was as she had suspected, but the words made it sound even worse. "You _are_ normal," Hermione protested. "Just because some prat of a boy rapes you doesn't make you abnormal, Harry," she cried.

Harry laughed again, still harsh and still haunted. "He didn't rape me, Mione."

"Well he obviously did something to you, Harry," she soothed, but when she reached out to touch him, comfort him but he jerked away.

"Don't," he hissed. Just go."

"Harr-"

"Go!" he shouted, making Hermione scramble away as she felt that otherworldly tether to his magic flair all around him. Harry fell back to the tile in a puddle of icy water and Hermione backed away. She didn't want to leave Harry alone, but she felt like she might need back up. Clearly something had happened to her poor friend, but this was one problem she felt ill equipped to deal with.

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"Draco Malfoy!" screamed a voice over the din of the student laden corridor. Draco frowned and turned, wondering what mongrel was shouting at him, when he spotted everyone else in the hallway doing the same. A pair of furious chocolate brown eyes in a head of bushy brown hair stared back at him and Draco rolled his eyes.

He refused to give her a response and instead just stood there and waited for her to approach him, tapping his foot lightly on the cool stone floor as he did. He didn't have long to wait, for the moment he made eye contact with her she stormed right at him. Before he had time to react her had came sharply across his face and her knee kicked roughly into his groin.

"Bitch," he hissed. "What the fuck was that for, Granger?"

"You know exactly what that was for you poor excuse for a man," she spat.

" Sod off, Mudblood," Draco retorted with a sneer.

"How do you do it?" she demanded. "How do you do something like that and then pretend like it was just another day?"

"And what is it that I'm supposed to have done?" Draco asked, knowing full well that Potter wouldn't have had the balls to tell her anything about what they did the night before, but she was certainly pissed off about something.

"You fucking raped Harry!" she growled, seeming more like her feral ginger cat than a civilized girl.

"Is that what he told you?" Draco scoffed. "You're mad, the both of you. You can't just go around shouting wild accusations like that!"

"He's broken, Malfoy. Whatever it is you did to him, he's broken," she spat. "Are you happy now?"

"No, I'm not happy you stupid bint," he growled in reply before he reminded himself that he owed Granger no explanations. His entire body was screaming at him to find Harry and comfort him and he just wanted the Know-it-All to shut the hell up.

She did seem mildly taken aback by his outburst though, not that it stopped her from laying into him again. "You'll pay for what you've done to him, Malfoy," she warned but Draco just shook his head.

"You don't even know your friend anymore, Granger," he spat. "You like research so much? Look up the word 'Incubus'." With that he spun around and marched off, trying to search out the scent of his mate.

He found it at the end of a corridor that led outside. It was difficult to pick up, but not nearly as hard as it had been before they had sex. Now it was as if his body was tuned into Harry's, as if the Gryffindor was always with him somehow. The essence led him down and away from the castle and toward the pitch where instinct took over and he broke into a run for the boy's locker rooms.

As he had suspected he found Harry there, sitting on the floor with his knees drawn up to his chest and the very glimpse of his mate, nude and damp made his lust triple within him. That wasn't what he was there for though, and it was as if his body knew that. So instead of leaping upon the boy like a rabid animal, he just kneeled behind him and wrapped his arms soothingly around Harry's frail body.

"I can't-" Harry stammered, his voice breaking and it reminded Draco of Hermione's words. 'You broke him' her voice echoed in his head and he cringed.

"You need to stand up and you need to face the world, Potter. This isn't going to get any easier for either of us, but we're both in this together," Draco told him quietly.

"How much do you know?" Harry asked, keeping his face strategically turned away from Draco's.

"A bit. I got it from my mother's side, so she's told me some, but I gather that Father won't allow her to tell me everything," Draco told him, sounding bitter even to himself.

"And what are we?" His voice quivered on the last word, as if he had a hard time with it. Draco still found it difficult to think of them as a joined unit and he had been reading up on his kind all summer, he could only imagine how Harry must feel.

"Incubi," Draco answered. "We can talk if you want, we can sit down and I can tell you everything I know," he offered.

"I-I – I can't. I don't think I can be near you right now," Harry admitted.

"Don't you feel better when you touch me?" Draco asked, utterly confused. The moment he placed his hands on his mate's cool flesh he felt instantly at ease, as if they had been confidants and lovers for decades. He didn't understand why Harry wouldn't feel it too.

"Yes and no," Harry replied shakily. "I feel better when you touch me, but at the same time I know I shouldn't."

"We're meant to be together, Harry. You and I," Draco informed him honestly, trying to soften the blow by using the boy's given name, unfortunately it had the opposite effect.

In a rough movement Harry whirled in his embrace and shoved the Draco away. "Don't act as if you suddenly know me," Harry growled. "We're not friends, we're not best mates, we are nothing to each other."

Draco wrapped his arms around himself, feeling injured by Harry'swords as true as he knew they were. He had set out to conquer Harry, but every time he was near the dark-haired Gryffindor he just wanted to hold him, kiss him and make love to him. It was as if Draco Malfoy melted away and something new and more pure stood in his place.

But there his mate stood, rejecting it all, telling him 'no', refusing to believe that this was their destiny. It was infuriating. "Kiss me," he demanded at last, not willing to let Harry slip away from him entirely.

"What?" Harry balked, eyes wide with something that mimicked terror.

"Kiss me and I'll prove it," Draco repeated. "I'll prove you and I belong together."

"Sod off, Malfoy," came a voice that wasn't Harry's.

Draco turned to find Weasley and Granger glaring at him and he sighed; no more alone time with his mate, not now that the trio was whole again. He turned and gave Harry one last heated look and shook his head in dismay. "You'll see before the end," he announced. "You all will."

He slipped by Harry, careful not to touch him because he knew even once passing graze of fingers would send him reeling back to him, and he left the room, storming passed a lobster red Weasley and a narrow eyed Granger.

"Let's get you dressed, Harry," he heard Granger say before he got out of earshot and grumbled that they were spoiling everything.

Author's Note: Poor broken Harry and poor shot down Draco.


	6. Truth and Lies

Author's Note: Many thanks to my beta Laurel, who agreed to look this over even though it contains Snape Smut

Chapter 6 Truth and Lies

Draco stalked the corridors searching for someone to take the edge off. His veins burned as if set on fire directly and his entire body ached to be held by his mate. Knowing that the boy who could end all of his suffering had been hiding away in his dorm all week only served to make it that much more unbearable.

Since leaving Potter alone with his friends the previous weekend, Draco had seen little of his Gryffindor paramour. Breaking through Granger and Weasley's defenses was like breaking into a Gringotts vault. Potter was inaccessible and never alone, making the pain Draco felt coursing through his body elevate daily to the point where he had no choice but to relieve it another way. If Potter didn't want him then he'd find someone who did.

"Zabini," he called out the moment he spotted his awe stricken friend. The boy nearly drooled as Draco grabbed his sleeve and tugged him into an abandoned classroom nearby.

"Drop your trousers and bend over that desk," Draco ordered and Blaise jumped into action, unbuttoning and removing his pants without hesitation. The boy was already erect and Draco rolled his eyes.

"Just turn around, would you?" Draco insisted, shoving the boy over to the desks as he unfastened his own trousers and without preparation thrust roughly into the other Slytherin's backside.

The boy whined painfully, squirming as though he couldn't decide if he wanted more or wanted it to stop. "Shut up," Draco growled. "Potter never complained." He thrust again but felt nothing as he did: no interruption, not even a pause in the growing pain that flowed through his whole body.

The boy grunted uncomfortably again and Draco pulled out, casting a memory charm as he did, before stalking out of the room unfulfilled, not even bothering to explain Blaise's confusion to him before he left. He couldn't muster up the kind of indifference it took to be able to fuck his roommates at will, and even when he did, the act did nothing for him; just looking at Zabini's insignificant form made him crave Harry's creamy skin and obsidian hair.

With an exasperated sigh at knowing his heart wouldn't permit him release with another, Draco roamed the corridors for a quiet place to study for his Potions exam and it was this that led him to a delightful epiphany. Harry's friends wouldn't be allowed to follow him into detention, but Draco could. Potter would be in Snape's office that very same night and Severus wouldn't dare deny his favorite student access to the boy. A wicked grin erupted across his sharp features as Draco thought of Harry's face when he walked in to see his mate there waiting for him.

The clever Slytherin rushed off toward the dungeons to locate his Head of House. He found him in his private quarters, looking over a thick parchment scroll. "I'll be attending your detention tonight," Draco announced without preamble.

"You'll do not such thing," Snape replied, not bothering to look up from his work.

"You can't deny me access to my mate," Draco informed the older man with a glower.

"I can and I will. Potter specifically asked that you not be there," the Potions Master noted.

"And you agreed? Why? You know what he is, what he means to me, you can't keep us apart like that," Draco growled.

"I'm simply facilitating the request of my student," Snape replied with a devious smirk.

"What are you getting out of this arrangement?" Draco inquired, already knowing the answer based on his Professors leer.

"Why Draco, I think that much should be obvious. I'm taking your mate as my own tonight. I need to assess how much training he'll need before being inducted into the company… a quality check if you will," he mused with a wicked glint in his pitch black eyes.

"He's not joining the company," Draco snarled, feeling a surge of protectiveness flow over him. "Harry's mine."

"Harry doesn't want you, nor does he want to lose control with one of the people he cares about. Madame Scarlet's will be the perfect solution," Snape recited as if giving Draco the sale pitch.

"Did he tell you that he doesn't want me?" Draco asked, thoroughly befuddled. He couldn't understand why the pull was so different for Harry. Draco couldn't get a wink of sleep without the raven-haired boy occupying his mind, but it appeared Harry was utterly indifferent to him.

"Yes, after class yesterday. He had a feeling you might barge into his detention tonight and he made it clear that he wanted you nowhere near him," Snape replied sharply. "Potter has promised himself to me in return for my assistance on this matter."

Draco folded his arms around his body hugging himself. "I- I don't understand," he rasped, his throat closing up as if warding off a sob. "Why doesn't he love me?"

"Love has nothing to do with this," Snape replied casually.

"It has everything to do with it!" Draco howled. "I love him, my entire body responds when he's near me, my mind dwells on him every second, I always want him with me."

"How do you know he's even your mate?" Snape asked. "If Potter doesn't feel the same way, isn't it likely that you're wrong about him? Perhaps the Incubi's song is singing to you as well. What you describe sounds more like infatuation than love."

"I-I'm sure…" Draco began, but he wasn't. Harry's scent called to him like no other, but it was possible that Snape was right. Harry was the only other Incubi he'd encountered, other than his mother, since he turned seventeen, maybe his feelings were all simply because he'd met another of his kind.

"Perhaps we should speak with your father, he knows a great deal about your species after all," Snape reasoned.

"If I were going to talk to someone, I would talk to Mother. Father would only tell me what he wanted me to know," Draco replied bitterly, though speaking to Narcissa about Harry might actually be the best idea. "Does he know about Harry?" he asked in a panic. Even if what Draco was feeling wasn't real, he still didn't want his father dragging Harry into that mess of a company he'd created.

"Not yet. I've kept it from Lucius for the moment, but once Potter agrees to join us I'll have to tell him," Severus replied coolly.

"And if Potter refuses to join you?" Draco asked, his eyes flickering with hope.

"I'll still tell your father. We have ways of persuading people," Snape replied with a deadly smile. "He'll be ours, make no mistake."

"We'll see about that," Draco grumbled, turning to leave the Potion Master's room.

"You realize you'll be fighting your father directly on this?" Snape called to him. "He'll no doubt take Potter as his own special pet the moment he finds out about the boy's talents."

A shudder ran through Draco's body at the idea of his own father's hands on his mate, but then he could be wrong and Harry might not belong to him after all –somehow that didn't seem to change how Draco felt about it.

"I'll deal with that when the time comes," Draco whispered and left the private quarters in lieu of someplace quiet where he could think about what to do next.

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Harry didn't know how to tell his friends to bugger off. He didn't know how to make them understand that as much as he tried to fight it, all he wanted was for Malfoy to hold him, or that the only time he felt clear and right was when the blonde Slytherin was buried deep within his body. No doubt a statement like that would give Ron a coronary.

All week the pair had stood by his side like chaperones, warding off Malfoy at every pass. They never left him alone. They made sure he was unable to sneak away at night by stealing and hiding his invisibility cloak and placing a few powerful spells on his bed that would alert the pair if Harry tried to get up. Midnight trips to the loo were closely monitored by Ron, which made the problem of keeping his beast at bay that much more difficult.

Hermione deemed it an unhealthy obsession with his attacker and said that a lot of victims lionize the people who hurt them. Harry tried to explain that it was completely consensual, and that Malfoy didn't attack him, but his clever Gryffindor friend would hear nothing of it. "Just because you may have wanted to experiment did not give Malfoy the right to take advantage," she had said, though she was going entirely on speculation. Harry hadn't told her a single thing of what had really happened that night or else his friends might not ever speak to him again.

If they had any idea that Harry had provided the creamy filling to a Slytherin sandwich they would no doubt be appalled and have him committed or worse. All he knew was that the longer he went without the blonde's touch the crazier he actually felt. His only relief was the knowledge that Hermione and Ron could not follow him into detention, though that hadn't stopped them from trying to figure out a way to do just that.

Just yesterday Ron actually tripped the Potions Master, sending the man skidding a good meter across the floor and shattering some of the vials he'd been carrying –which made Harry flush crimson from the memory of what the man had done with a very similar vial the last time they had been alone together. Snape took one look at Ron, then flicked his eyes to Harry's blushing face and seemed to know exactly what the redhead was up to.

"Fifty points from Gryffindor, Mr. Weasley, and you'll be seeing me in detention," the man growled. "Saturday," he amended with a satisfied sneer.

Ron slumped and the pair scurried away from the sallow professor before more punishment could be dolled out. Even though the plan had failed, Ron felt successful since he'd have the humorous memory of Snape falling on his face to replay over and over in his mind; it would keep him company in his detention on Saturday and he knew his housemates would think fifty points a small price to pay for the victory.

Despite his friend's best efforts, Harry would finally be alone in detention that night, and after seeing the longing looks on Malfoy's face from afar, Harry guessed that the blonde would come to find him there.

Time morphed into more burning flames to consume him as the seconds ticked bybefore he could see Malfoy again. His body ached for the Slytherin, yearning for him in a way that he couldn't explain. His mind knew that he was longing for the same Slytherin prat that called his friends Mudblood and poor blood traitor, he knew that he was still the same boy who stood beside his father on Voldemort's right hand in the war, but his heart didn't care. His heart saw the blonde hair and the milky flesh and swooned.

All week he'd been hoping the Slytherin would find a way to break through his barrier of diligent Gryffindor friends, but the boy always hung back, just staring at him unrelentingly in classes or at meals. It was rather frustrating, but Harry looked forward to remedying their lack of contact tonight.

When the time came, Hermione and Ron escorted Harry to the Potion Masters office. Harry had worn extra layers of clothing, wanting to savor the feeling of Malfoy stripping them away one at a time. As he neared the chilly dungeon classroom he was glad for the additional warmth his forethought had provided him with.

"I'll be fine," Harry assured his friends as he shooed them away. He hoped desperately that Draco was already inside so that his two Gryffindor protectors out in the corridor wouldn't attack him.

There were no piercing gray eyes to meet his when he arrived though, only thick obsidian. "Professor Snape," Harry chimed in greeting, a blush settling on his cheeks when he realized Snape was sitting on the edge of the desk and leering at him obscenely.

"Mr. Potter," the man replied, as he began to stalk closer. "I trust you've come to my classroom prepared for your detention?"

"Is Malfoy coming?" Harry asked, ignoring the older man's smoldering gaze and loaded questions. Letting himself fall in the long clawing fingers of his Potions Master once had been one time too many. He wouldn't begrudge the man joining he and Draco if it came to it –the man had provided the opportunity for Harry to finally be with the Slytherin student after all- but he wouldn't pursue a sexual encounter with the man without Draco present. If the boy was right about them belonging together, it seemed Harry owed him at least that much.

"No," Snape replied sharply. "He came to me today frustrated that you continually reject him. He's decided to take another lover to assuage his yearnings."

"W-what?" Harry asked, not understanding the Professor's words.

"Draco wants someone who is available to service his needs whenever he wants. Just today he took a fellow housemate and then erased their memory, just as he has been doing all year. He's an impatient boy and won't wait for a Gryffindor prude such as yourself to come to your senses," the man informed him.

"How could he think I was a prude after last week?" Harry demanded. Harry had done unthinkable things in last weeks detention; no one with any sense could possibly call Harry a prude after he'd sucked off his Professor while being fucked in the arse by his worst enemy.

Snape gave an elegant shrug and put his arm around Harry's shoulders, his tone becoming gentle and seductive. "You could always prove him wrong," the man suggested with a smirk.

"I should talk to Malfoy," Harry whispered, conflicted over that very statement. Part of him wanted to let the Potions Master have his way with him only to rub it in Malfoy's face later, but the rest of him screamed in protest.

"Harry," the man soothed, gliding long fingers along Harry's jaw as he did. "Draco doesn't deserve you, in fact, no _one_ man deserves to be your keeper. You're special. Not only are you the Hero of the Wizarding world, but you also have the talent to give whomever you choose the all-consuming pleasure of your touch. People would kill to spend ten minutes in your bed."

"And what would you do?" Harry asked, his breath coming in quick and shallow gasps.

"I would protect you from those who mean you harm, I would hold you and love you, I would worship you, Harry," he replied softly. The words stung at the corners of Harry's eyes and he didn't even realize the Professor was pulling at the buttons on his shirt until the cool dungeon air hit his bare skin. "Let me make love to you, Harry. Let me show you that it doesn't all have to be rough and forced like it was last time."

Harry sighed, losing himself in the seductive octave of Snape's voice and nodded. Within seconds deft fingers were working at getting more clothing off of Harry's body and then lips were on his and Harry closed his eyes against the feeling, willing it to be Draco instead of Severus. "No!" he gasped, breaking the kiss at last. "I have to talk to Draco," he announced and pried himself out of Snape's grip, leaving the classroom at a run.

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Ron was waiting outside the Potions classroom and his eyes went wide as he saw Harry barrel out nearly shirtless. "Harry, what-" he began, but his friend mowed him down in an effort to run further into the dungeons.

Ron gave chase, but didn't bother asking his friend any more questions. Harry only stopped when he stumbled upon an anxious looking Slytherin boy. "Where is Malfoy?" Harry demanded.

"He's gone," the boy replied, shaking slightly.

"What do you mean, gone?" he asked, grabbing the boy's collar and shoving him against the wall. "I need him."

"H-his mum," the boy stammered. "He's gone to visit her, but I'm sure I could help you," the boy added a bit more boldly as he ran his hands over Harry's tight abdomen. Harry dropped the boy at once and turned around. Maybe Snape was telling the truth about Draco, the boy did opt for a visit with his mum instead of storming into Snape's detention to see him.

"Oh, Harry," a voice called from further down the hall. Harry turned to see Hermione standing there holding a thick volume and she had tears streaming down her face. "I had no idea, Harry."

"No idea about what?" Harry asked, thoroughly perplexed and concerned that Hermione seemed so upset.

Hermione didn't answer him, instead she grabbed his arm and dragged both him and her boyfriend through the school and up to the seventh floor, ignoring all their persistent questioning about what was happening as she went. Within moments the door to the Room of Requirement opened up and she pulled the boys inside. The room housed only a fireplace and three large comfortable chairs and Harry took a seat in the furthest one while Hermione took the next and motioned for a dazed looking Ron to take the third.

"I've been trying to get to the library as much as possible over the past week," she started to explain. "It's been hard since I've also wanted to stick by your side as well, Harry."

"And?" Harry muttered, fully aware of her sentry guard duties.

"And it's taken me longer than usual to find what I had been researching," she added. "Malfoy told me to look up the word 'Incubus' and I did. I found nothing at first, and then only vague references to vampire-like creatures who hunt in the night."

"Harry's a vampire?" Ron asked, his eyes widening further as he shifted awkwardly in his chair.

"Obviously not," Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes. "Really Ron, do you know nothing about Vampires?" she asked, but Ron only shrugged and seemed to relax slightly.

"Would you please get on with your point, Mione?" Harry asked anxiously.

"Well, while you were in detention I was searching the restricted section for anything that might reference Incubi and, well, I found something," she said, gesturing to the large book in her lap. "It was wedged between 'Most Potent Orgasms' and 'Octopi: A Guide to Life with Tentacles'. It's called 'Night Terrors: Not Always a Bad Thing'."

"What? I'm not having night terrors," Harry laughed, still thinking of the other books she had mentioned.

"No, but in one passage I read earlier in the week, the Incubi are said to stalk people at night –giving _them_ what some believe to be night terrors," she explained. "It's an ancient species, usually likened to Vampires because like them the Incubi have to feed on humans in order to survive. Only they don't feed on blood…" she told them, her voice trailing off.

"What do they feed on?" Ron asked, swallowing thickly and burrowing further into his chair.

"Sex," Harry answered for her. The explanation clicked and Harry buried his face in his hands. "I feed on sex, I feel like an open wound with salt being poured into it unless…" Harry trailed off as well unable to say the words out loud.

"Holy shit, Harry," Ron exclaimed. "You have to have sex or you'll die?"

Harry shrugged. "I don't know about die, but sometimes I want to because it hurts so bad."

"That's brilliant!" Ron shouted and then began coughing slightly. "Mione, I think I'm coming down with a case of Incubus."

Harry snickered slightly but Hermione only glared at her boyfriend. "Ron this is serious. If you don't start acting like it maybe I'll give Harry permission to relieve himself with you." That sobered Ron right up and he immediately cleared his throat and sat up attentively.

"According to this text, Harry, you will die if your… desire… isn't quenched," she told him seriously.

"How do you know that this is me?" Harry asked. "I mean, I get that Malfoy told you to look it up, but what makes you so sure I'm this Incubus thing?" Malfoy told him that was what he was as well, but Harry wasn't in the mood to trust anyone at the moment.

"It describes the way you're feeling exactly how you described it to us yourself. A burning fire in your veins unless in the throws of sexual release. Harry, all this time I didn't listen. I'm so sorry, please forgive me," she begged.

"There is nothing to forgive," Harry muttered, pulling his knees up to his chest. "So does it say anything else?"

"Well, it explains that most people are drawn to the Incubi, making their feeding easier, which explains why so many people are flinging themselves at you," she noted. "It also goes on to explain why people like Ron and I remain unaffected by the pull."

"Why is that?" Ron asked.

"If you'd like to know, you are welcome to pick up a book, Ronald," she announced with a bit of a blush. Ron simply rolled his eyes and pulled the volume out of her lap. It was marked in several places with scraps of parchments with Hermione's delicate notes and as Ron scanned, his eyes grew wider.

"You love me?" he asked suddenly, his face flushing a brilliant crimson.

Hermione's cheeks blushed to match soon enough, but she quickly regained her composure and sat up a little straighter. "Well, unless you've been harboring a deep feeling of lust for our Harry then it seems logical that you must love me as well," she quipped. "According to the book, people already in love won't be able to smell the intoxicating pheromones that you're giving off since your change," she added, directing the explanation to Harry.

"I do love you," Ron blurted, his eyes never leaving Hermione's face.

"I should leave you two alone," Harry mused, getting up and backing out of the room. "Can I borrow the book?"

Hermione flung it at him without even turning to look at Harry, her eyes were all for Ron. Harry made a quick escape before he was forced to witness his two friends going at it, and held the book close to his chest. Finally he had some answers, not all of them surely, but something to quell the devouring beast inside him for now.

Author's Note: So, a little more about the Incubus, another nice Ron (who knew my black heart was capable of forgiving him at long last) and a very twisted Snape, who lied to his own Godson... whatever shall we do?


	7. Trials and Turbulence

Author's Note: Thanks to Laurel for her brilliant beta skills. Also, thanks to everyone who reviews. I know I'm not as responsive to every single one as I used to be, but if someone has questions I can answer I try and do so, but I do read and enjoy every single one, so thanks again! My loyal readers are who keep me posting so frequently.

Chapter 7 Trials and Turbulence

The vast corridors of Malfoy Manor always evoked a sense of regal elegance in Draco's mind; they also made him feel like a visitor in his own home. The palatial estate was so enormous that even having grown up there, Draco still hadn't seen every room or hallway the Manor had to offer. The rooms would magically shift around, automatically attuned to where one wished to go. If he was in the dining room and wanted to go to bed, all he need do was walk into the next room and he'd find a door that would lead him to his private quarters. As a boy, when he wished to explore his ancestral home, Draco was forced to clear his mind of everything he knew about the Manor in order to be allowed to wander into new areas. Still, even with honed mental skills he would eventually find himself suddenly stumbling into the kitchen if he grew hungry during his exploration, or being eschewed into one of the many bathrooms if he had to piss, thus ending his exploration for that day.

His family home was fashioned with cold marble and pristine silk brocades, all far too opulent and expensive for him to be permitted to touch as a boy. In fact, he couldn't even count how many rooms he was forbidden to enter, the first and foremost being his father's study. He'd only seen the inside of the rich mahogany room once when he was seven. He'd been playing in the gardens and fell, scraping his knee quite badly, so he ran inside screaming for his mother or father. Narcissa had been away from the Manor, so the home showed him a solid ebony door instead, which Draco had foolishly opened without thought.

Lucius was inside leaning heavily against his desk, his face coated in a thin sheen of sweat. Draco recalled thinking his father was ill and immediately lost all concern for his own injuries as he went to his father's side. It was then that he noticed the other person in the room. Severus Snape –although he knew little of the man at the time- was sprawled face down on the desk's surface as his father pounded into the man's arse. Draco stared with child-like innocence as his father continued to fuck the man unheeded, not even looking up until Draco gasped at a particular groan Snape had let escape from his mouth.

"Father, why are you hurting this man?" Draco asked, unsure as to why his father was dolling out such an unusual punishment.

"Draco," the man hissed through perfect teeth. "What have I told you about entering my study?"

"Never to do so, Sir, but the Manor sent me to you," Draco replied guiltily. He knew his punishment would be severe for disobeying his father and he rubbed his bum gently trying to ward off images of his father attacking him in the same way he was attacking Snape.

"I'll deal with you later, boy. Get. Out. Now," Lucius ordered between groans, not even slowing his rhythm with man attached to his groin.

Draco scurried from the room as fast as his tiny feet would carry him while curiously wondering why the man on the desk was begging for more punishment with words like 'harder' and 'faster' being shouted behind him.

Shaking his head at the memory, Draco imagined what it would be like to still be so innocent. Now he found himself nearer to his Father's behavior than he ever wanted to be, and with no sign of it abating any time soon. Draco's Mother might be a Succubus passing the thread down to him, but his Father was simply a whore, a trait that Draco seemed to have inherited as well; a dangerous combination. He wanted to be furious with Lucius for cheating on his Mother, but Narcissa was no fool. She traded a life of opulence and luxury for fidelity, and she did so knowingly. Draco was sure that she herself wasn't so innocent either, with this burning in their blood he didn't know how she could be.

He closed his eyes tightly and thought about her, her long blonde hair, the way she often smelled of magnolia blossoms, the way her dress flowed perfectly around her body when she moved, and when he opened his eyes a large gilded door had materialized in a previously blank expanse of wall.

"Mother," he greeted upon walking inside to find her sitting in front of the fire in her private quarters. He didn't both knocking because she had been expecting him.

"Draco," she replied in turn, getting up to meet him at the door before enveloping him in a tight hug. "I'm surprised to see you in the middle of a term. What brings you here?"

"Advice," Draco admitted.

"Are you having trouble controlling your urges?" she asked gently. They'd had a long talk before he'd left for Hogwarts as to what he might experience when he arrived with his new inheritance, but she had no way of knowing for sure because the Succubus blood that ran through her veins was pure, not like Draco who was essentially a half-breed.

"I found my mate," he told her without preamble. He wouldn't be allowed to remain at the Manor for long; the other Slytherins would cover for him for a time, but not under threat of exposure. If Snape finished his detention with Potter and came looking for him, his housemates would rat him out. Just the thought of Snape defiling his mate made a shudder of anger ring down his spine. Severus would pay if he hurt even one ebony hair on his mate's head.

"That's amazing, Son, I've never heard of anyone locating their mate within the first year of their change," she admired. "I shouldn't be surprised though, you're a strong wizard."

"It's Harry Potter," Draco informed her before she could continue to gush. Her pale eyes flashed at the name but she otherwise remained composed. "You can't tell Father."

"That's quite an understatement, Son. If he finds out that Mr. Potter is a Cambion as well then he'll be auctioned off to the highest bidder," she grumbled.

"So you know?" Draco asked, somewhat dumbfounded.

"About his twisted brothel? Of course I do, I'm not naive," she announced haughtily. "I can smell my kind on his skin when he returns home, I've monitored our vaults closely and I have a fair idea of what he's up to."

"But-" Draco sputtered inelegantly. "I don't understand, how could you let him do that to our kind?"

Narcissa narrowed her eyes in annoyance. "Don't think for a second that I have control over your Father's activities. I might influence them, but he's a man born of deception, it's in his blood just as surely as the beast flows through ours," she quipped. "In any event, what he's doing couldn't be too unseemly or else the Order of Merlin would be after him."

"The Order of?" he began to question her, but his Mother cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"Yes, the Order of Merlin. It's not just an award bestowed to established witches and wizards, Draco. It's a group of Cambions, said to be Merlin's direct heirs, who protect our kind through pain of death," she informed him. "They are a mysterious and veiled clan, some even believe them to merely be a bedtime story gone awry, but I promise you they are real."

"What, like Incubi Aurors?" he asked with a laugh, one he was quick to note his mother refused to return.

"Do not joke, Son. They will protect our kind from harm, but they are also judge, jury and executioner for those of our kind who step out of line," she told him firmly. "No more talk about them, though. Harry Potter as your mate," she mused aloud. "How did that come to be?"

Draco blushed furiously as he thought of the night he took Potter. "It's a long story. Is there any way to test the bond? I want to be certain that's what it is. What if I'm simply responding to another Incubus?"

"What does he smell like?" she asked.

"Like cloying vanilla, sweet and spicy all at once," he answered softly, as if searching out the scent in that room.

"And you've been intimate with him?" she prodded, no flush entering her cheeks as she discussed the sex life of her own son; she was under to misapprehensions about how he spent his time now that he was of age.

"Once," Draco admitted, "but now he's refusing me at every turn, it's as if he can't feel it."

"Curious," she mused, pacing the room in fluid strides. "He's quite powerful though, and perhaps his mother had a thinner strain of the Succubae in her blood."

"How do you know it was his mother?" Draco asked curiously.

Narcissa gave as close to a roll of her eyes as a lady with her countenance would give. "I met James on several occasions and, though I could tell he was touched by our kind, I always assumed it was simply my cousin who did the touching. Nevertheless, James Potter was not one of us. He was a pureblood wizard, regal and true."

"Your cousin?" Draco asked, hungry for any details of his kind.

"Sirius," she amended. "Those boys he dawdled with, James Potter included, were all willing victims of the Incubi strain inside Sirius Black. Come to think of it, that might be the very thing that drew James to Lily. If she had even a fraction of Sirius' pull then it might be clear why they married. Once one experiences someone of our kind, it's very hard to go back to plain old humans. When Sirius chose Remus as his own it probably left poor James scrambling for some semblance of that pleasure."

Draco gaped; he knew he shouldn't and that the action was far too undignified for someone of his stature, but he was unable to help it. "But, what about Nymphadora?"

Narcissa chuckled. "We weave quite the tight little web, don't we? Yes, your cousin also carried the Succubus strain within her, but it was faint, diluted by Muggle blood more than it would have been with Wizard blood. When Sirius died, Remus was left wanting, then in waltzed Nymphadora."

"Potter's going to go ballistic when he finds out," Draco groaned.

"Then don't tell him," his Mother chastised. "At least not right off."

"That should be easy enough since he won't speak to me," Draco huffed, throwing himself rather violently into a nearby armchair. "I'm in pain, Mother, and he doesn't care."

"He's in pain too, I'm sure," she soothed quietly before pulling a heavy tome from her bookshelves. "Take this, it may help. It's the oldest volume I have on our kind. It has every truth and every legend there is about what you are. Perhaps it might lend you help in attaining the trust of your mate."

Draco took the book with a sigh and with another hug for his Mother, returned to Hogwarts through her personal Floo. He poured through the book all night, searching out information about Incubus mates. He knew Lucius was not his Mother's mate, not in the true sense of the word. Her mate had been a human wizard who had died many years ago. She no longer felt the pull of her blood as she once did, but Draco couldn't imagine the excruciating pain she must have felt at losing her one true mate. Draco couldn't even bear to think of Harry getting hurt and the boy refused to see him, he couldn't fathom what it might be like to share the bond that Incubus mates were said to have. If the inexorable draw toward Harry so far was any indication, Draco could expect a wild ride ahead of him.

**

The book Hermione found offered very little information on his kind, but what it did say all matched closely with Malfoy's brief explanations. Still, the idea that he might belong with the snide Slytherin git rankled him and he strove to find a way to disprove that very theory. So far he'd been rather unsuccessful.

Before this year Draco smelled of expensive cologne and dirty looks, but now he smelled like warm apple pie and happiness. It was both intoxicating and revolting all at once. Harry felt as though he needed the blonde, wanted him always by his side, but his stubborn brain knew it was folly to even consider letting that happen.

Draco was a Malfoy, a prejudiced Slytherin, a bully and a cad –he was very nearly a Death Eater and suddenly he wanted to possess Harry as his own? Nothing added up and no matter how many times the thick book in his lap told him it was true, Harry refused to believe that Draco was meant to be the person he would spend the rest of his life with. Fate couldn't possibly be so cruel, could it?

Harry shook his head, knowing full well that fate could be precisely that cruel, especially when it came to him. So far it had dealt him death and war; why not also send him a vicious partner that repulsed him?

Although repulsed wasn't entirely accurate, at least not anymore. These days Harry spent every moment dreaming of Draco's milky white flesh and pale blonde hair. The Slytherin boy was like a magnet for his libido, and if Harry didn't give into his urges soon he'd probably allow the gray-eyed Git to lead him around the castle by his cock.

He needed to see him, that much Harry knew for sure. He needed to speak with him and find out if there was some fraction of a decent human being under the Slytherin's haughty exterior. Perhaps if he found something good in him, even minor, Harry could live with the fact that he might need to have sex with Malfoy for the rest of his life. He certainly was nice enough to look at…

Even that thought left Harry feeling guilty. He didn't want to be some shallow shell that indulged in sexual pleasure with a man he loathed. His mate could have been anyone else, even Flitwick would have been preferable to Draco Malfoy, why did it have to be him?

His thoughts drifted unerringly back and forth between wanting the blonde in his bed and wanting to kill him so that the draw would fade. There were still his friends to consider as well. They might know about his yearnings now, even where they stemmed from, but they hadn't a clue about why he needed Malfoy so badly. How was he to explain to them that sex with Malfoy was like sinking into a warm fragrant bath after a long day? How was he supposed to live a life with someone that his friends hated nearly as much as he did? 'Oh, hello Mrs. Weasley. I'm bringing Malfoy to Christmas dinner just in case I need to have sex with him before the meal is through. Yes, I'm aware that he let Fenrir into the castle allowing him to maul your son, but I thought it would be okay to bring him anyway.'

Harry ground the heels of his palms into his eyes, trying to rub away the image of Malfoy sprawled nude across the bed Harry usually shared at the Burrow. It was too much, it was unreasonable to expect other people to understand and accept them, especially when it was more than even Harry could logically accept and _he _could feel the effects of his bond with the blonde prat. With trembling hands he began searching the tome for spells or potions that might dampen the effects of his hunger, something that might make his life livable without his Slytherin mate by his side.

***

Severus stormed up the stairs of Madame Scarlet's in search of his business partner, having shooed away the delicate Muggle girl who had greeted him at the door. He wasn't in the mood to waste time; he wanted to give his information to Lucius and hoped to receive the reward he'd been looking to get from Potter. His body still shook with anger and desire from watching the luscious young man slip through his fingers and into the corridor to search out Draco.

Favorite student or no, Godson or no, Draco was wearing on his nerves already. Severus desperately wanted Potter as his own plaything, and what better way to make up for all the taunting James had put him through than to defile his only son. Ever since his lonely existence was turned upside down by a single intoxicating night with Lily Evans, Severus had been seeking the touch of a Cambion. James stole Lily away, concern for Draco stole Lucius away, and now Severus would do everything within his power to steal Harry away. He no longer desired the pale flesh of Lucius' clone of a son, he now wanted Potter, he wanted to watch those green eyes glow under his touch, hear those pink lips scream out his name, feel that tight arse slam against him.

Without bothering to knock, Severus burst into the office where he knew he would find Lucius with one of their whores –or three as the case might be. Tightly leashed slaves sucked and prodded at the Lord Malfoy while the man pounded into one arse after the other, like a game of Duck-Duck-Goose. "After all these years your lack of propriety shouldn't astound me, but I'm afraid your whorish ways always amuse me, Lucius."

"Someone forgot to knock, I see," Lucius snarled, sheathing himself into the current slave one last time and shuddering slightly with his release before casting a quick cleaning charm and striding toward his discarded trousers. It was all in a day's work to Lucius Malfoy. Send the invoices, run a tight household, fuck the slaves, make sure his most important clients were happy –sex was simply another business transaction to the man.

Lucius strengthened the spells on the slaves leashes, ones that would ensure they remain docile, before even bothering to look at his guest and business partner.

"I had some news I didn't think should wait for such a trivial detail as knocking," Snape sneered.

"And you hoped to catch a glimpse of me nude as well, I'm sure," Lucius replied hotly. "You really should have the hostess announce your arrival next time. That's what she's here for after all."

"This is my business too, Lucius, or have you forgotten," Snape growled.

"I haven't forgotten our arrangement, Severus. Why aren't you at Hogwarts living up to your side of the bargain?" Lucius replied shortly.

A slow menacing smile curled upon Severus' lips and a gleam shone in his obsidian eyes when he spoke. "I've found us a new candidate."

"Only one?" Lucius barked. "You've been there for weeks already –and with my son's help no less- and you've only found one?"

"Ah, but this one will bring in a fortune so great that all of our slaves combined wouldn't equal it," Severus rasped, his throat going dry from remembering the boy's taste.

Lucius scoffed and rolled his eyes. "It would have to be Harry Bloody Potter to pull in that kind of income."

A liquid chuckle escaped Snape's lips at his partner's words. "Well, I suppose we're in luck then."

Author's Note: bum bum bum. So does Snape really tell him? What will happen to Harry if he does? Or Draco for that matter? Ah, how I love cliffhangers!


	8. Meat for the Hounds

Author's Note: Many thanks to Laurel for her continued beta support of this unconventional tale of debauchery. Also, if you haven't already seen, I posted the first chapter of a new short story I'm working on called 'Plundered'. It's Pirate Drarry.

Chapter 8 Meat for the Hounds

Harry awoke suddenly with such a feeling of dread that, had he been an actor in a movie, ominous music would be playing in the background. He didn't know what sparked him to wake up covered in a thin sheen of sweat, or what nightmare he must have had to make him bolt upright in bed, but he had the strongest sense that he had best be on his guard.

Automatically his eyes flicked around to room to see if anyone else was awake, or if the presence of some intruder that had snuck into the room was what struck his alarm, but he failed to see even a quill out of place in the still dark room. He tried to lie back down and quiet his mind enough to fall back to sleep, but when the feeling of caution wore off it was replaced immediately with the burning desire that had been plaguing him for weeks now.

He refused to give into his body's whims but couldn't seem to ignore them by remaining in bed, so he hopped up and threw on his invisibility cloak figuring that a walk might do him some good. After locating the Marauder's Map, Harry set out, stopping as soon as he got to the landing just outside his dorm room entrance. There on the first step leading down into the common room was a shiny silver box with a dark green velvet ribbon. It gave him pause, but eventually Harry leaned in for a closer look. Upon further inspection he noticed a small card attached to the bow that said simply 'Harry' in delicate, almost girlish script.

Picking up the package, Harry shook it back and forth as he walked downstairs, trying to see if the contents inside would make a sound and alert him to its identity. The parcel was heavy, and only made a raspy thud as it fell from one side of the box to the other. Finally planted in his favorite chair, Harry tore the package open, noting quietly to himself to fib to Hermione if she asked if he had checked it for curses first.

He was relieved to find that there seemed to be nothing untoward to worry over, it was only a heavy book wrapped within the polished silver box. He wondered who would give him a book and for a moment he questioned whether the intended recipient was actually himself after all–he even double checked the tag to make sure it wasn't Hermione's name scribbled there and not his- until he read the title on the dusty cover. _'Demons Volume 12: History of the Incubus and Succubus'_

Harry found himself rather offended at the idea of being called a demon, but then that was how he sometimes felt. The idea of preying on innocent victims to fill his sexual demands did seem rather evil, but he desperately hoped that by fighting the urge he might forgo his apparently reserved spot in Hell. He assumed at first that Hermione had found the book for him; she had been doing a fair bit of research in the Restricted Section of the library lately, but as soon as he flipped open the cover he found a note from the true culprit nestled snugly inside.

'_Harry,_

_I realize this must all be tremendously odd and maybe even a little bit frightening for you. I hoped this might help to answer some of your questions. I assure you that my feelings for you are genuine and I would like the opportunity to prove it. _

_Yours Forever,_

_Draco Malfoy'_

A shudder ran through Harry's body knowing that the delicious Slytherin had been so close to his own bed, so close that he could have easily taken him as his own right then. It was intoxicating to think of Draco simply sneaking into his room and slipping into bed with him, his warm body enfolding Harry in a soothing embrace. Harry's lips we filled with a phantom ache as if Draco had snogged them raw, just the thought of Draco calmed some of his burning nerves. His mind was so rich with vibrant fantasies that Harry began to even think he heard the boy call out his name like a faint whisper on the air.

"Harry?" It sounded again, but this time he wasn't so sure it was all in his mind. Once again Harry let his eyes flick around the room, only this time they landed on a shadow in the corner, a darkly cloaked body standing between two tall bookcases.

"Malfoy?" he asked, setting the book aside and striding over to the figure. "What are you doing here?"

The boy jumped, launching nearly out of his skin, and Harry realized suddenly that he'd been wearing the invisibility cloak and quickly pulled it off, the movement startling the blonde once more. "Sorry," Harry told the other boy meekly, figuring his sudden appearance had been the cause of his panic.

"I saw the book levitate over to the chair, and then disembodied hands dashed out to rip the box open," Draco chuckled, recovering from his brief scare. "Where did you get this thing?" he asked, pointing to the discarded pile of shimmering fabric.

Instantly Harry became acutely aware that he was only wearing a thin pair of pajama bottoms as his body reacted to the blonde in front of him.

"My dad left it to me," Harry replied. His mind wasn't occupied with the explanation of the cloaks rich history though, but rather on the pearly white teeth that were biting into a soft pink bottom lip. Malfoy's milky skin seemed to glow in the faint light of the room, and while most of his hair was still covered by the hood of his cloak, a few obstinate strands fell into Draco's face looking so silky that Harry wanted nothing more than to run his fingers through those golden trusses to see if they felt as soft as they looked. All the warnings he'd been holding fast to seemed silly and childish now that he had Draco standing before him and looking more that just a little delectable.

"That's some gift," Draco mused, looking equally mesmerized by Harry's proximity. "Harry I-" Draco began, but his words failed to leave his lips as Harry crashed into him with a brutal force the blonde hadn't been expecting. Tender lips pressed against his own and Draco fought for dominance, but lost miserably to the attack of teeth and lips and hands that Harry launched against him.

Draco tasted like honey and lemon, sweet and sour all at once and different from last time. Everything felt different from last time, Harry wasn't as confused, wasn't as shocked, wasn't as fragile as he'd been that night in Snape's classroom. He felt stronger, surer, and he was most sure about his desire for Draco above all others.

Harry's mouth only left Draco's so that he could explore new areas of his skin, starting with the boy's jaw and working his way slowly down Draco's neck and then back up to his earlobe until he heard the Slytherin gasp his pleasure. He went for the blonde's cloak, pushing it from his shoulders to reveal only a thin gray linen shirt underneath. "Harry-" Draco began to protest, but Harry sealed a finger over the boy's lips.

"Hush. You'll ruin it," Harry warned, running the fingers of his other hand over the light fabric of Draco's shirt.

With a whimper, Draco nodded; letting Harry's hand roam under the top to caress his pulsing flesh, every inch of him screamed out for the Gryffindor to touch him more, kiss him more. Seeming to hear the silent plea, Harry wasted no time in ripping the shirt from Draco's torso and then throwing it roughly to the floor before pressing the boy into the wall behind them. A groan escaped Malfoy's lips, which quickly turned into a cry of ecstasy as Harry dove his hand into the Slytherin's trousers to grip the House's namesake waiting inside.

Harry pumped him furiously, letting the slick liquid already leaking from the boy's arousal coat his hand as he brought Draco to the edge. Just as Draco's breathing grew quick and shallow and his gray gaze began to cloud over with lust –Harry stopped.

"I want you," Harry purred against the other boy's neck, sending gooseflesh across Draco's exposed arms and chest. Harry could feel the beast within him like a palpable thing that he could almost separate away from his own being. His body felt different, his mind was keener, sharper, and even his voice sounded different to his own ears. It was as if the Incubus was a living thing inside of him and it was making its way to the surface, ready to break through and ravish the luminescent blond in front of him. "I want to be inside you," Harry continued, letting his demon take over.

Draco's eyes went wide at those simple words. As much as he'd wanted this very thing, his mind had never rationalized out the possibility that Harry might want to top him. Draco had been dominant over Harry in their first encounter and he merely assumed it would remain that way, but this hungry, ravaging Harry was a different animal altogether than the one he had found whimpering for release in the Dungeon classroom weeks before. Was this even the same boy he'd been chasing? It certainly smelled like him, tasted like him –but there was more there as well.

"I don't know," Draco replied at last. He didn't think he was ready to submit himself just yet.

"Are you refusing me?" Harry asked, obviously perplexed by the possibility. "I thought you wanted me, too."

"I do!" Draco nearly shouted. "I do," he repeated more quietly. "I've just never…"

"So you just assumed I was an eager bottom?" Harry asked, though he could already see the answer written on Draco's face. "That was my first time," he assured the blond before releasing his grip and stepping back.

He didn't wait for Draco's response, instead he turned around and scooped up his cloak and gifted book before storming upstairs. He warded the door behind him, making sure the Slytherin couldn't follow and threw himself on the bed in a fit of anger and frustration. Harry didn't know why he continued to think and pine over the malicious boy who apparently only wanted things his way. He would soon find out that Harry Potter wasn't so easily pushed around and that a fair relationship –even if it were merely based on sex- would be the only relationship he stood for. If all Malfoy wanted was a submissive rag doll he had best look elsewhere.

-------------------------------------------------------

Draco opened the door to the Great Hall and stormed inside, heading straight for Harry Potter –his mate. It had been two weeks since he'd risked life and limb to sneak into the lion's den to deliver that gift for Harry and he'd been rewarded only by Harry snubbing his reluctance and returning to his room. He'd gotten a harsh shock when he tried to follow the boy, something akin to a lightning bolt seemed to shoot right though him. It was far more powerful a magic than anything they'd been taught at Hogwarts and it still smarted when Draco tried to grab his wand too roughly. Since that night Harry hadn't needed a back up guard to keep him away from Draco, no, the Gryffindor Seeker was perfectly adept at avoiding Draco all on his own.

He refused to stand for it any longer though. Draco was in constant pain, and the only one who could relieve that pain was Harry. The brunet belonged to him and, by Merlin, Draco was going to collect him at last.

"Potter, a word in the corridor," Draco greeted, not a request but a demand, just as he'd seen his father do a million times.

"No," Harry replied easily without even looking up.

"I'm serious," Draco continued, his voice dropping into more of a whine than he would have liked.

"So am I," Harry replied sharply.

"Please, Harry," he tried, this time the Gryffindor turned to face him at least.

"I don't want to see you right now," Harry told him firmly. "Perhaps when I'm not so angry with you we could talk. Until then just sod off, Malfoy."

Draco didn't know what to do, or what to say. Harry didn't look angry, but he'd confessed to that very emotion as he sat there looking every bit the stony Slytherin –cold and indifferent. Granger and Weasley were obviously listening to the exchange while pretending to be occupied with a paper what was lying upside down on the table, and Draco felt a blush creep up his cheeks at having his apparent weakness for the Gryffindor hero made public.

Had hell frozen over? Had he somehow fallen into an alternate dimension where Harry Potter was more Slytherin than Draco Fucking Malfoy? This was ridiculous, Draco was supposed to be the one reaping the vast benefits of his new inheritance. He was supposed to be happily spreading his seed all over the school not spreading his cheeks only to take it up the arse from a Gryffindor.

This 'Mate' nonsense was turning his entire life upside down. He'd known the minute he caught the scent outside the Gryffindor common room that he was going to have a battle on his hands, but Draco could never have predicted such a mess. How could Harry continue to refuse him? How was he able to cope with the pain? Only sex kept it at bay, and Draco had a harder and harder time attempting to relieve himself with someone else.

A horrid thought raced through Draco's mind and his eyes snapped back up to Harry's calm and collected face. Was Harry fucking another student? A violent flame of jealousy burned through him at the thought and he was unable to banish the image of _his_ Harry with another. Draco had shared him the once out of necessity, he didn't want that to happen again.

He glared down at Harry feeling some of his cold detachment return at the thought of Harry declining him in favor of another boy. "So you won't come speak with me?" he confirmed and Harry shook his head.

"Not today," he replied firmly and turned back to his meal.

Draco's body shook with rage; he was rejected and possibly even replaced in Potter's life before he'd even had a chance to make his claim. With a silent growl, Draco turned on his heel and stalked out of the room, unsure of how to vent his fury and pain.

----------------------------------------------------

Hermione reached across the table and clutched her friend's now trembling hand, squeezing it slightly until Harry looked up at her. His eyes were so dark green they were nearly black; a sign she knew from her research meant that Harry had gone far too long being unfulfilled. She hated to see her friend this way but she wasn't sure how one went about persuading someone like Harry to 'just go on and fuck Malfoy already'. Clearly it was a touchy subject, and with the book Malfoy had left for Harry to read, she'd learned far more than she ever wanted to and was convinced, now more than ever, that Harry and Malfoy were Mates. But how was Harry supposed to overcome so many years of hatred and rivalry? Hermione worried they wouldn't be able to and feared what that would mean for her best friend.

"Alright, Harry?" she asked, knowing that of course he wasn't.

"I'm fine," he replied dutifully, a Harry Potter answer if ever there was one. Hermione swore one day those words would be carved into the boy's tombstone. "He just needs to learn that not everything is on his terms," Harry added, poking a bit of egg around his plate distractedly.

"It's a good lesson, Harry, but…" she began, but Harry's sharp glare cut her words off rather abruptly.

"Lay off it, Mione. Okay?" he demanded harshly, and his face softened the moment she nodded.

Harry was changing, growing angrier and more violent every day. Hermione had no idea how to counter it and there was nothing in any of the books she read that explained it, but she had a hunch that it had something to do with Harry finding his mate and denying him. The beast inside of Harry was punishing him, making Harry pay for betraying his true nature.

'Beast' wasn't her word for it; it was Harry's. The book often referred to it as a demon or some other ghastly source, but based on some of the stories she'd read, Hermione had come to the conclusion that it wasn't nearly so horrid as the authors had made it sound. Harry had a capacity for love inside of him so deep that it would literally kill him not to share it. In fact, from what she'd learned so far, Hermione quickly reasoned out that the Incubi needed love, not sex to survive. Sex –because the act often went hand in hand with love, even if just a mere hint of it- could feed them and keep them for a time, but without the love that only his mate could provide, Harry's soul would wither and die.

She didn't want that fate for Harry but she had no idea how to explain any of this to the boy who sat stubbornly across from her, refusing to admit his feelings for the Slytherin who had just stormed away.

--------------------------------------------------

Draco had yet to discover a way to vent his anger when he stumbled into his dorm to find it far darker than it should have been. He cast several _Lumos_ spells in quick succession but nothing brought the lights back up.

"You've been holding out on me," a familiar drawl sounded from further inside the room.

"Father? What are you doing here?" Draco asked and he was momentarily blinded by a flash of light that erupted in his vision.

"When Severus told me about Potter I said 'No. It cannot be true. My son would have come to me with this information directly'," he went on as if Draco hadn't said a word and wasn't standing before him shielding his similarly gray eyes. "I looked like a fool, Draco, and you know how much I loathe looking like a fool," he growled.

"Yes, Father," Draco replied softly, trying to hold his composure in front of the powerful wizard and patriarch.

"You had a prize such as the wizarding world's most clouted hero on your radar and you didn't bring him to me at once?" Lucius carried on. "Think of the Galleons that one boy could bring us, think of the power we would hold. Why even the Minister himself would probably pay handsomely to lay with Harry Potter for just a moment."

"But he's my mate," Draco blurted, his rage renewing when his father talked of pimping Harry out to the highest bidder.

"Severus says Potter hasn't acknowledged that, which makes me curious as to why you would continue to lie about it," Lucius hissed, grabbing his son roughly by the jaw. "Are you trying to oust me from the business I created?" he snarled. "You think that with this one Incubi you can woo away my clientele and take over?"

"No," Draco spat bravely, though he couldn't keep the tremble from his voice. "I wouldn't even know how to do such a thing."

"Exactly," Lucius growled, releasing the grip on his son's face and pushing him away roughly. "Which is why you'll bring Potter to me so that I may examine him and induct him into our exclusive little group."

"Examine him?" Draco whispered; the words making bile rise into his throat.

"Yes," Lucius replied with a twisted grin. "I'll try him and I'll train him… _vigorously_ if needed."

"He's mine!!" Draco shouted, lashing out only to be put into a full body bind by his Potions Master who was standing nearby, previously unnoticed due to Draco's momentary blindness and the distraction his father provided.

Snape glided over and caressed long fingers against Draco's frozen cheek. "Such a waste, Lucius," he cooed. "You really should have been stricter with him. He might not be so defiant if you had used a firmer hand," he added, smacking Draco sharply in the jaw for emphasis.

"There's nothing I could have done. He's weak like his mother," Lucius snapped, releasing his son from his partners spell. "Are you willing to concede to me?" he asked Draco, holding up a finger to pause the boy's instant protest. "Hush before you ruin things further, perhaps you ought to listen to reason and logic? Ruled by your emotions," he huffed sharply, sounding both frustrated and disappointed. "You might as well have been sorted into Hufflepuff."

Draco steeled himself for whatever rant his father would give him and motioned for the man to continue.

"I will have Potter one way or another. I always get what I want. However, if you bring him to me, showing me that I can trust you once more, I will not only give you back the reigns of the business my heir should rightly inherit, but I'll give you Potter as well. Not exclusively mind you, there is money to be made after all, but once Severus and I are through with him then we'll let you have your reward," he offered, a sick gleam in his eyes. "I promise he'll be yours."

"Because obviously your promises mean so much," Draco spat; still clearly seeing Harry on his knees as he had been the night Draco discovered him as his mate. Only instead of himself drilling into Harry's pert backside, he envisioned his Father there. The image brought a new wave of nausea over him.

A deafening bell rang in Draco's ears before he could even register the sharp sting left from Lucius palm slapping his face. "Don't you ever denounce my word again, Boy. Do you hear me?"

Draco fell to his knees when he saw his father's wand pointed at his jugular. He swallowed thickly and could almost feel the potential curses trickling down the length of wood and into his flesh.

"If a reward doesn't win your loyalty then perhaps punishment is the more appropriate method. Bring Potter to me or I shall bind you as a slave," Lucius snarled. "If I can't trust you to be my heir I might as well profit off of you. People would pay nearly as much to fuck my son as they would Harry Potter. Isn't that right, Sev?"

Snape leered, nodding slightly as the corners of his mouth curved into a wicked smile. "I would be your first customer," he assured him also answering Lucius' question, "and I wouldn't be as gentle as I was with poor innocent Potter. As the son of Lucius Malfoy though, I'm sure you like it rough."

Draco whimpered as the Potions Master leaned down and claimed his godson's mouth in a rough kiss, one so violent that it left the coppery flavor of blood in Draco's throat.

"Yes, Severus prefers to top, though I never let him with me. I'm sure he's itching to enact his displeasure at being my constant submissive for years," Lucius mused and Draco saw the confirmation in Snape's eyes. Draco's father had broken something in Severus, driven him mad, and if given the chance, his godfather would unleash that madness upon his naked flesh.

"So, will you be a good son and do as your daddy tells you?" Lucius asked as if they hadn't just been speaking of having Draco raped by his own godfather and countless others.

"Yes," Draco whispered, still holding his place on the ground.

"What's that? I didn't hear you," his father commented.

"Yes, _Father_. I'll bring you Harry Potter," Draco confirmed, bowing his head in defeat and shame. He'd just agreed to sell his Mate to the bloodiest wolves in the wood.

Author's Note: I know, I know. You all hate Lucius and Snape. You'll have to get over it though, because they are prominent figures to this story for good or ill. Would voodoo dolls make you feel any better? Oh, and for some who asked, this is a skewed take on the Incubi legends.


	9. A Change of Heart

Author's Note: Yay! Thanks to Laurel for her mad beta skills! And now for a bit of fluff. Don't worry though, it won't last.

Chapter 9 A Change of Heart

"Do you love him?" Hermione asked casually as if she were discussing the weather. There was no flair of passion in her tone, not even a hint of how she would feel at Harry's answer, whatever it might be.

"That's a ridiculous question," Harry snapped, his own tone full of feeling, the very opposite of his friend's. They'd been sitting in the common room together long after the rest of the students had gone to bed. Harry had been trying to explain how he felt about Malfoy after she had prodded at dinner, and several times since, about the cold shoulder he continued to give the blond on a daily basis. It was obvious she had picked up on some nuance in her reading and was set on testing her wild theory. Harry, of course, knew that Malfoy was his Mate, he felt it in every bone of his body, but it didn't change the fact that they were enemies. How could he possibly live out the rest of his existence with Draco Malfoy of all people? The boy infuriated him as much as he aroused him. Either way, he refused to give into Hermione's persistent nature by letting her in on their little secret. He knew she had a hunch, but she would be far less annoying over it if she couldn't confirm her theory that Malfoy was indeed Harry's Mate.

Plus, if she knew for sure she would be obligated to tell her boyfriend and Harry didn't need any of the Weasleys attacking him for this, especially not Ron.

"Harry, be reasonable," she huffed. Her monotone cadence wasn't because she didn't care. She was simply exhausted trying to keep Harry's temper in check, and sick of hearing about the lithe Slytherin all day, every day. It was more than she could take and the combination sapped all of her energy. "You mention him constantly, you're always watching him, you only spark to life anymore when he's near. Harry, you're obviously smitten."

"I'm attracted to him, sure, but who isn't?" Harry shot back. "You yourself once said how perfect he'd be if he were only a decent human being."

Hermione blushed and shook her head. "That's not the same. My acknowledging that the boy has unmatched style and grace is a little different than your ogling him in Potions."

"I don't ogle," Harry corrected, crossing his arms firmly across his chest as if that were the end of that matter. "He's like me, he's an Incubus, too. I'm just drawn to him because of that, nothing else."

"So then do you think someone else is your Mate?" Hermione asked, seeing if she could shift the conversation away from Malfoy for even a moment.

"The book said it could be years, decades even, before I find them," Harry recited, trying to make a point while avoiding a direct answer to her question. "It's unlikely that it would be someone I've always known."

"Unlikely but not impossible," Hermione countered. She had done her research and in ten percent of the Cambion cases their Mates had been close to them before the change. Hermione had gone back and forth about how she would feel if she were right. At first the idea appalled her, knowing that if Harry was destined to be with the smirking bastard for the rest of his life then it would mean he would be in her life forever as well. Gradually she shifted into acceptance because, really, this was all about what was best for Harry. After Harry had told her the details of their last encounter, however, Hermione began wondering if Malfoy even had the emotional capacity to make someone like Harry happy in the long term or if it would only end in heart break for her friend. Now she wasn't sure what she felt, but she knew that there was something between the boys and she felt that it needed to be explored, if only to get Harry to lighten up a bit. He'd been so testy since coming into his inheritance.

"It's impossible to think that even if Malfoy _was_ my Mate that I could stand to build a life with him. We hate each other," Harry grumbled. It always came back to that. Just when he thought that he could figure out a way to make things work, Draco did or said something to change his mind. It would probably be like that forever.

"He doesn't seem to hate you anymore," Hermione observed, but Harry shook his head.

"It doesn't matter. It doesn't change the way _I_ feel," he replied softly.

"Maybe you could just have a talk with him, try and come to some sort of agreement," Hermione suggested wisely.

"You mean, see if he'll wear a gag while we have sex?" Harry asked sarcastically.

Hermione rolled her eyes but snickered in spite of herself at the image of Draco walking around all day with a ball gag. "Perhaps he'd be into it," she mused.

A look of abject horror crossed Harry's face as the image of Hermione and Ron in some sort of erotic bondage scenario took hold of his conscious thought. "Really? Did you have to go there?" Harry asked, but Hermione just continued to giggle.

Finally the two retired to bed after Hermione professed that she'd be useless in her classes the following day if she didn't get at least a few hours sleep. Harry felt guilty for keeping her up but he'd been feeling so alone lately and it was nice to be able to talk to someone who would listen, even if he didn't particularly care for her advice.

Still, maybe she had a point. Harry would have to come to terms with things eventually; perhaps he really should just pull Draco to the side and have it out with him so that they could work things out.

As Harry tossed and turned in bed he decided he couldn't wait until morning, he couldn't take his lack of concentration, constant aches, and persistent worries any longer. He had to see Draco now and he had to figure things out once and for all. So, with renewed determination, he set out with his map and cloak to sneak downstairs and wake the boy up if he had to.

Getting into the Slytherin common room was easy enough when he spotted Pansy sneaking out into the Corridor. He just slipped inside as she was slipping out and crept through the dorms until he stumbled into one where Blaise was sleeping soundly in the nearest bed; he knew Draco shared a room with him so he figured he must be in the right place.

Still cloaked in darkness with the added protection of his invisibility cloak, Harry snuck in and quietly shifted the curtains on a few beds until he saw the telltale white blond of Draco's hair peaking out from under a heavy green bedspread. The boy truly looked angelic as he slept, his lips parted slightly and his hair disheveled and glowing brilliantly in the dim candlelight. Best of all, the boy wasn't complaining or being rude; in this state he could almost forgive him of anything. Harry reached out and ran his fingertips along the Slytherin's cheek, feeling a thrill run through him as he did. There was no doubt about it –this was his Mate. Harry had never felt such an inescapable pull toward another human being in all his life as he did with Draco.

He didn't know how long he stood there just watching the boy sleep, but at some point, Malfoy shifted and started clutching his blanket tightly. It became fairly obvious rather quickly that the boy was in the throws of some terrible nightmare by the way his face scrunched up and his body kept tossing and turning.

Harry didn't know what to do; he wanted to soothe the boy but he would rather not be caught there in his room like a weird stalker. His heart wrenched when Malfoy started to whine and shake his head violently, as if arguing with someone. "No," he cried. "Please, don't take him away from me."

His entire body tensed as he leaned closer to make out what the boy was mumbling. "You can't take Harry away," Draco continued sleepily. "I love him."

The wall around Harry's heart crumbled and the muscle began to pound frantically in his chest at the words and what they could mean. Could that be true, could Draco actually _love_ him? The implications of those simple words weighed heavily on his heart, but Harry knew in that moment that he had to at least try to make things work with the often-obnoxious Slytherin.

Throwing caution to the wind Harry slipped into bed beside Draco, spooning up against his back and gently caressing the boy into a calm sleep. "Shh," he whispered, running his fingers through Draco's platinum locks. "Everything will be fine. No one is going to steal me away from you," he promised.

The words seemed to sooth Draco tremendously and before long his breathing became even once more and the blond snuggled back into Harry, clutching the boy's hand beneath the invisibility cloak. Harry didn't last long after that. The comforting feel of the Slytherin pressed against him coupled with the weeks of sleepless nights had Harry close his eyes and fall almost instantly into one of the most peaceful slumbers he'd had his whole life.

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Draco's week had been rather horrid since the unexpected visit from his father. For once he was thankful that the Gryffindor was ignoring him because every time he thought of what he had promised to do his stomach lurched and his throat filled with bile. Regardless of how much upheaval his life had endured the past few weeks; Draco had apparently managed to get a decent night's sleep. He woke up Friday morning feeling refreshed and brand new.

It wasn't until he tried to turn over and discovered a weight draped over him that he began to panic. Slowly he calmed himself, trying to be logical about the possibilities of what was happening. He thought momentarily that Blaise had climbed into bed with him after he'd fallen asleep –he worried for a brief moment that he had fucked the persistent housemate and then simply fell asleep with him there, but he could clearly remember going to bed alone the night before and he certainly didn't feel sated. Still, there was no arm, just a heavy invisible weight pinning him to the mattress.

His next thought was that he had woken up late and some of the other Slytherins' had pulled some sort of binding prank on him. He silently went through every spell he knew and couldn't think of anything that would make him feel like this. Some unknown thing was holding him tightly, yet he wasn't at all frightened.

Eventually the grip slackened slightly and Draco shifted enough to be able to see his attacker, but no one was there. Carefully he freed one of his arms and reached up to poke at the obviously solid, yet invisible, object holding him in place. Relief washed over him when he realized what it was. He pushed at the soft fabric and gasped as it revealed Harry's sweet sleeping face. Draco thought for sure it was just one of the younger Slytherin's with a toy invisibility cloak they picked up at Zonko's, but now that he saw who it was he also noticed the opulence and detail of the newly revealed garment as well.

"Potter," he whispered, nudging the boy lightly. "Potter," he called softly again when Harry didn't even budge.

"Five more minutes," Harry whined, curling up against Draco's body. The sensation filled him with a contented bliss like nothing he'd ever experienced before. He gave in at once, pulling the boy into a tighter embrace as he sunk deeper into the mattress.

He tried to wait as long as he could without disturbing the sleeping boy, but his mind raced with questions. Why was he here? What did it mean? Has Harry finally accepted him as his Mate? Will this convince Father to leave him alone? Dozens of questions all vying for an answer and Draco found himself unable to sleep any longer. "I can't wait five minutes," Draco whispered. "Harry, wake up."

Harry stirred in his arms, rubbing those brilliant emerald eyes before blinking rapidly –obviously trying to remember where he was.

"Good morning, Sleepyhead," Draco cooed beside him, running his hand surreptitiously along Harry's torso, slipping beneath the fabric of his worn tee shirt to caress the tight muscles underneath. "Last night was magnificent, wasn't it?" he sighed, a smile dancing at the edges of his mouth

Harry's eyes widened and his entire body tensed. "What?" he rasped, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Last night," Draco repeated. "Don't you remember? Personally I'll never forget the way you… well, you know what you did," he added with a wink.

Draco didn't think that Harry's eyes could get any wider, but somehow he managed that exact thing. "You… I mean, I… er… _we_… what did we do exactly?" he stammered, clearly confused. His heart was racing; pounding so fast that Draco could hear it clearly in the quiet space.

"You are _so_ adorable when you're flustered," Draco commented, and Harry seemed to relax instantly.

"You were trying to have one over on me," he grumbled, though he didn't seem angry.

"Trying? I'd say I succeeded. You should have seen your face," he teased, not stopping his assault on Harry's torso with his fingertips. He loved the sensation, every new inch of skin sent a bolt of energy through him.

Harry yawned and settled in beside Draco as if he belonged there; the casual and easy nature of it made Draco's heart rate speed up. Things seemed to be finally falling into place, but not in the way he had expected. After their first wild night together, Draco assumed that his relationship with Harry would boil over before eventually simmering into this warm comfort that he already felt with the brunet.

"So nothing happened," Harry clarified, more a statement than a question.

"Trust me, if something had happened you would have remembered," Draco replied with a wink. Harry just chuckled and pressed a soft kiss against Draco's bare shoulder, sending shivers down the boy's spine. "So why are you here?" he asked, not wanting to break the light mood but feeling like he needed answers.

"I came to get you up. I wanted to talk to you and I couldn't sleep. When I got here though I just couldn't bear to wake you and then you started having a nightmare, mumbling in your sleep and whatnot, so I stayed to try and clear away the bad dreams," Harry replied honestly. Draco was surprised by the boy's candor. He'd always known Harry to be secretive and aloof and wondered briefly what had changed his mind.

"What did I say?" Draco asked, suddenly worried by what might have slipped out while he was sleeping. He could remember dreaming about his father and Snape stealing Harry and refusing to let Draco see him.

"Oh, nothing much," Harry chuckled. "Just grand professions of love for me," he teased.

"What?!" Draco hissed, his eyes growing wide.

"Joshing," Harry assured him, biting into his lip and looking away sharply. Draco could tell he was exaggerating, but he didn't know to what extent. Had he really confessed that he loved the boy while he was unconscious? Draco wasn't in denial of his feelings, but that didn't mean he was ready to tell Harry all about them. They had barely spoken a civilized word ever since the revelation that they would be practically forced to spend the rest of their lives together.

"I can't be held accountable for anything I said while sleeping," Draco announced, more defensively than he would have liked.

"Right," Harry agreed, looking slightly disappointed. "Well, I should probably get back to my own room before Ron and Hermione send out a search party."

Draco grabbed on to Harry's arm involuntarily, not wanting to part with the boy like this. "What was it you wanted to talk to me about last night?" he asked, trying to stall.

"Us," Harry replied. "But it can wait for another time."

"Oh," Draco pouted, trying to think of something more eloquent to respond with but failing miserably.

"See you," Harry muttered, making to slide out from under the covers. Draco made one last ditch effort to fix things before Harry walked out and went back to ignoring him, and he leapt up, grabbing Harry's face between his palms and pulling the dark-haired boy into a fierce kiss.

Harry seemed shocked at first but almost immediately melted into the Slytherin, gripping the boy's waist for leverage. Both were panting for breath when they broke apart, Harry's hold on Draco never slacking. "Just because I can't be held accountable for the things I say when I'm sleeping, doesn't mean there isn't any truth to the words," Draco whispered against Harry's lips.

"I'll keep that in mind," Harry replied in an equally low tone. The vibration from the Gryffindor's deep voice made Draco flick out his tongue to run it along Harry's bottom lips one last time before letting the boy go and letting himself fall back to the mattress.

Harry released him as well and got to his feet on the other side of the bed from Draco's roommates where no one would be able to see him. "Would you sit with me in Potions?" he asked shyly and Draco beamed at him.

"Won't that give Weasley a coronary?" Draco asked with a light laugh.

"Probably," Harry replied with a shrug.

"Then I'm in," Draco assured the boy, warming under the light of Harry's glowing smile. "I'll see you there."

With the promise of another meeting, Harry flung the cloak around his body and disappeared. Draco could hear the door to his room open and shut again and winced against the momentary flair up of pain that flashed through his body from Harry's absence. He wondered how he could ever hope to live a normal life if he couldn't be away from Harry for even a second without the pain returning.

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It wasn't as if Draco had actually said 'I love you' to Harry's face, but the blond had still inadvertently admitted his feelings, which made Harry feel light as a feather. He didn't know why but the idea that Draco Malfoy might be in love with him didn't scare him as much as his logical mind knew it should. He was still terrified that his life would be a miserable string of arguments with the boy, but waking up beside him that morning had been one of the best ways Harry could think of to wake up. The first thing he had seen were those shining, metallic gray eyes staring back at him and he felt so comfortable.

The pain returned instantly when Draco had tried to deny his own unconscious words, but the Slytherin had corrected himself and soothed Harry back into a tranquil state and he was grateful for the small compassion. Whether it was honest or not, he had no idea, but the assurance set his heart aflutter and distracted him from the pain in his flesh all through breakfast.

Harry was in his regular seat in Potions with Hermione seated directly next to him and Ron at the end of their row on the far side. There was just enough room for Draco to sit next to him, and Harry smiled to himself as the blond walked into the room. Draco smirked back, his eyes flicking between Harry and his two Gryffindor friends before walking over and taking the last chair next to his Mate.

"Potter," he greeted formally, bowing his head slightly.

"Malfoy," Harry greeted in turn, unable to keep the smile from his face no matter how hard he tried.

A moment later Harry was drawn along Draco's gaze to just over his own shoulder where saw Hermione calming a very red-faced Ron. "Why is the ferret sitting with Harry?" he hissed.

"We've discussed this, Ron. You know what Harry is," she whispered back trying not to draw unneeded attention to their conversation.

"But its Harry… and Malfoy," Ron whined, looking more green than red all of a sudden as Hermione's words began to sink in.

"Yes, and I think you might need to get used to it," she replied, her gaze flicking to Harry and Draco sitting as close as physically possible without being in one another's lap.

Ron made a noise that sounded like a cross between and groan and a whimper and let his head fall to the desk while Hermione rubbed slow, soothing circles into his back. "He'll be alright," she whispered to Harry unnecessarily. Harry had known that it would be when he invited Draco to sit with him. He knew the redhead would be overly dramatic and find the idea distasteful, but he also knew that eventually Ron would be tolerant even if he was never thrilled with the idea. He also knew that any hard time Ron chose to give him over the Draco situation would be returned with taunting of his own about Ron's sex life with Hermione.

"Does she know about us being Mates then?" Draco asked quietly beside him.

Harry rolled his eyes and shrugged. "She does now," he muttered, sparing a glance at Hermione who looked both smug and victorious. "I hope you realize she'll never let up now," Harry chastised Draco. "She'll be planning our wedding before you know it."

Draco chuckled and smiled down the row at Harry's friend. "I like chocolate cake," he instructed, "and I'm not terribly fond of Muggle suits. I would prefer to be married in proper dress robes."

"Noted," Hermione replied with a giggle as both Ron and Harry both groaned simultaneously, the latter with a brilliant blush tinting his cheeks.

As Snape flew into the room like the giant bat that he was, he quickly took note of the unlikely pair in front of him. He wasn't sure what angered him most, the fact that the two boys seemed to be together at last or the fact that they were openly smiling and looking giddy in his classroom as if mocking him.

He narrowed his eyes dangerously and stalked up to the now silent pair, leaning his face down so that only Harry and Draco would hear his words. "I hope you haven't forgotten about our detention tonight, Mr. Potter. I'll be looking forward to the deep lesson I have in store for you."

Harry tensed and Draco immediately clutched his hand under the table, twining their fingers together. "I won't let him take you from me," Draco whispered as soon as the Professor floated away.

The words reminded Harry of the desperate pleas he'd witnessed the night before as the delicate blond slept. Harry let his head fall onto Draco's shoulder, not caring what it looked like to the rest of the class. He felt safe in Draco's arms, sheltered and warm as if someone was taking care of him for once. It had been Harry's job to save the world, maybe now it was time for someone to save him.

Author's Note: Aw, what a happy little couple... sort of.


	10. First

Author's Note: Many thanks to Laurel for her help on this one. She's a lifesaver and a smutsaver too!

Chapter 10 First

Hermione couldn't remember the last time she saw Harry smile as much as he had been smiling all that morning through Potions and even continuing into Transfigurations where Malfoy joined them yet again. Even now, sitting across from her at lunch with Malfoy at his side the boy was practically beaming. Ron found it rather sickening and was still bewildered from the seemingly fast turn of events and the sudden changes in their behavior toward one another, but Hermione couldn't be happier for her friend. Still, that logical part of her mind whispered that it could all still end horribly given who Harry's new paramour was and how quickly their relationship had manifested. In her studies, she had read that the pull from a Mate was undeniable, but that didn't prevent her from worrying that things could easily go belly up between the previously rivaling boys.

"So, what are your plans for this afternoon?" she asked the pair.

Harry's blush gave her all the answer she needed. By the way they clung to each other's hands at every opportunity seemed to keep the Incubus traits appeased for the time being but she had a feeling that wouldn't last long. She could tell that Harry was still leery about the whole thing, but he obviously liked Malfoy and, even though he refused to go into detail about it, it sounded as if Harry had already had sex with the Slytherin once before, so she didn't understand what the big deal was.

Although, that might have to do with the fact that she was now having sex with Ron, otherwise she might feel the need for Harry to wait as she once had. She found that being this blissfully happy made her want everyone around her to experience the same happiness; it was too good not to share.

"I have detention with Snape tonight," Harry finally replied, his tone bitter, "but Draco's meeting me before." He looked sheepishly away from the table and cleared his throat. "Ron, would you mind keeping the other boys out of the dorm just after dinner?"

"What?" Ron asked, his head flying up. He'd barely touched his food, which was extremely unusual for the boy, and had been trying rather hard _not_ to listen to the conversation being had around him. "You want to… in our room… but, Harry, why can't you just shag Malfoy in the Room of Requirement like me and Hermione?!" he demanded.

Hermione swatted him sharply on the arm as a few Gryffindors decided to join their conversation, or at least listen into it. The word 'shag' seemed to get people's attention even from the other end of the hall.

"Just for that, Ronald," she hissed, "you'll be going without for awhile."

"Mione," he whined. "I just don't want to know that they've been… you know… in my room. Harry's bed is right next to mine!"

"Maybe we should start in Weasley's bed," Draco whispered into Harry's ear, but the other pair heard them easily enough.

"Malfoy," Hermione reprimanded sternly while Ron gaped and shuddered at the idea of sleeping in sheets covered in Malfoy juices.

Harry chuckled under his breath while Draco looked on triumphantly. "We could use the Room of Requirement. It will be quieter there," Harry suggested, trying to keep the peace. His boyfriend, if that was what Draco was to him now, would certainly keep things interesting in their motley crew.

"That might be best," Hermione agreed. She knew her boyfriend would come around to the idea of Harry and Malfoy together, but she didn't think it was necessary to push his buttons so early on in their relationship.

"Fine," Draco sighed melodramatically, as if it were some nuisance to fuck Harry in a private room that would be made just for them. Harry seemed amused though, so Hermione let it be. They were an unlikely pair for sure, but something told her that under the right circumstances, Harry and Draco could have a relationship that rivaled the romance of even great literary couples. Either way, it appeared they were fated for one another, so she was happy they were making the most of it.

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The end of the day couldn't come fast enough for Draco, who fidgeted all though dinner and barely touched even a bite of his raspberry tart -a favorite of his. He wanted so badly to feel Potter's heated flesh against his own, but he was still nervous about bottoming for the raven-haired boy.

They'd been inseparable since he woke to find Harry in his bed that morning, but he didn't want the Gryffindor around any of his cunning friends, so he had chosen to sit with Harry and _his_ friends, at lunch and the rest of their classes that day. He'd rather put up with Granger's prattling and Weasley's scowls than go even a moment without Harry at his side now that he finally seemed to have him. He knew detention was going to be torture for him, having to imagine all the ways Snape was defiling his beautiful Mate while he waited for Harry in the Room of Requirement. His entire body shook with rage just thinking about it, but they had a plan.

Together after dinner they would seal their relationship and there was nothing Snape would be able to do about that. It would leave Harry's Incubus traits far more dormant then they would otherwise be if left alone with the Potions Master. It would seem innocent enough, and given the tender situation between Draco and his father, he still had to uphold pretenses that he was willing to assist his father in attaining Harry, at least until he thought of some way out of it.

"Are you okay?" Harry whispered delicately into Draco's ear so that his friends couldn't listen in.

"Fine," Draco replied. "Nervous," he admitted quickly afterward, the word slipping unbidden from his lips. He had been doing far too much of that, letting his heart spill out to the Gryffindor. There was something about him though, something that just made Draco feel safe and warm and loved –as if he could tell the boy anything. But he knew too well that there was no such thing as unconditional love, every affection had a breaking point and he didn't intend on finding Harry's. As such, he wished he could turn his own mental filter back on and stop telling the boy everything he was thinking.

"We've already seen each other naked," Harry teased. "And I already know what you like. What's there to worry over?"

"It's just… it's different this time," Draco replied sullenly. He didn't like carrying the weight of his emotions for the world to see, least of all his Mate –the one and only person that could make him feel naked and vulnerable, even when he was fully clothed.

Harry seemed to ponder his words and eventually nodded. "It is different," he admitted. "It's better."

"So what, you don't wish Snape was there?" Draco teased, but Hermione overheard and glared at her friend.

"Was Snape there the last time? Is that why you won't talk about it?" she demanded, looking as furious as if it had been her who was forced to suck the Potion master's cock.

"Butt out, Mione," Harry warned, his eyebrows narrowing.

"I most certainly will not," she hissed. "If _Professor_ Snape forced himself on you then you need to go to the authorities. That's an abuse of his position."

"He didn't _force_ himself on me," Harry stated plainly, and Draco squeezed his hand for reassurance. "That's the problem."

"But Harry, surely you can't mean that you… and Snape… willingly…" she stammered, suddenly sounding a lot like Ron.

"That's exactly what I mean. I don't intend on it happening again, though. Now that Draco and I are together there will be no one else," he replied.

"Unless we feel like spicing things up," Draco amended.

"No. One. Else," Harry corrected with a look of warning to his Mate.

"Mmmhmm. We'll see what you say five years from now when we've fucked in every way imaginable and you're bored," Draco huffed, smirking as Ron whimpered and covered his poor innocent ears from the onslaught of unneeded information. He could have gone his entire life without picturing Harry with Snape and then all the odd positions he imagined Harry and Malfoy in after hearing the blond's words –it was all too much.

"You think you'll get bored of me?" Harry demanded.

"No, I think _we'll _get bored. I just don't think we should close off all our options. Who knows, maybe one day Granger will want to join us," Draco replied with a wicked grin.

Hermione gasped at the insinuation and Ron leaned forward, maneuvering to put his own body in front of his girlfriend. "You won't be laying even a single evil finger on her, Malfoy," Ron growled in response.

"Perhaps both of you then, though you'll have to keep that freckled dick away from me," he instigated, unable to divert years of practice taunting the redhead.

Harry yanked him up from the bench and shot his friends an apologetic look before marching out of the Great Hall with Draco being led roughly along beside him. They only got to the first alcove outside the door before Harry shoved the blond against the wall and glared at him menacingly. "Do you always need to do that? Those are my best friends, Malfoy. If you want to be with me you need to respect them."

"I was just having a bit of fun. Weasley is too easy to goad," Draco defended. "It's hardly my fault that he has so many buttons."

Harry released Draco and ran his hands through his already mussed up hair. His posture seemed to slump and he looked defeated. "This isn't going to work," he whispered, more to himself than Draco.

"What?" Draco asked, his heart rate escalating in his panic. "What do you mean?"

"We're from two different worlds. You're never going to be the humble, good-natured wizard that I need you to be and I'll never be the vindictive Slytherin the Sorting hat tried to make me," he sighed, backing away from the blond.

"Harry," Draco begged, unable to find the right words to express how stupid he thought the Gryffindor was being without further offending him. "We're made for each other, can't you see that?"

"All I see is distance between us, Malfoy, and I'm too tired to walk that far," he replied before turning away and heading further into the castle.

Excruciating pain, both physical and emotional, shot through Draco's body at Harry's departure and he wasn't going to let the moral Gryffindor turn him away so easily, not after dangling a taste of what they could be together right in front of him.

He ran after the boy, switching their earlier positions and pinning Harry to the wall instead. "Don't do this," he demanded. "Don't throw this away so carelessly."

"It just won't work," Harry sighed, feeling unfortunately blissful in Draco's strong grip. "We'll both end up getting hurt in the end," he reasoned, just as much for his own benefit as for Draco's.

Harry gasped as Draco crashed his lips harshly against his own. Draco's flavor coated his tongue as the boy devoured him as if his life depended on possessing every inch of Harry's mouth. It was only a fleeting moment before Harry was returning the passionate kiss, unable to resist the pull of his Mate; his love for Draco seemed to be unavoidable, especially when he kissed him this way.

When Draco pulled away it was only to tug Harry away from the wall as they made their way quickly upstairs to the seventh floor. The door to the Room of Requirement appeared without any problem, and, as soon as they made it inside, the boys were ripping at one another's clothing until they were left panting and naked and too far apart.

It was like an explosion when they collided, two bodies made up of frazzled nerve endings just searching for a way to release the energy. Harry's hands went directly into Draco's platinum mane, pulling the boy into a fierce kiss, while Draco's hands wound around Harry's waist before trailing down to dig sharp fingernails into Harry's bare arse.

Harry moaned into his mouth as he slinked a single hand down to press their growing erections together. The friction was perfect, sending a shiver down Draco's spine and making Harry's eyes flutter until he pushed Draco away from him and to the bed, staring at the wide gray eyes of his Mate as he sat expectantly on the edge waiting for him. "This doesn't mean anything," he rasped before straddling Draco's lap and lunging at his mouth again. "This is just the Incubus, not me."

"You _are_ the Incubus, Harry, just as I am mine. I want you, I want this," Draco gasped as Harry leaned awkwardly down to divert his attention from Draco's swollen lips to his hardening nipples. Draco arched his back up to meet the probing mouth supporting his weight on his arms behind him and grinding his teeth together to keep from screaming out. Every sensation with Harry was triple the pleasure he received from shagging just any old student, it was as if Harry knew exactly what to do with that clever mouth and relished in the way Draco reacted to every new touch.

Draco pushed back further into the bed and sat propped up on a lump of pillows before pulling Harry in close to him again. "I don't want a relationship that revolves around sex," Harry sighed, raking his nails down Draco's back in response to the blond's frantic sucking at his exposed neck. He ground himself into the other boy's lap, smirking when Draco's head fell away from his throat to catch his breath from the heady sensation.

"When the sex is this good, we can afford to work on the other stuff," Draco countered, his nimble fingers wrapping around Harry's cock in the same moment Harry shifted back so that there was room for Harry's hand to clutch him in return. "Tell me you don't want me and I'll put my clothes on and leave," Draco whispered into his ear as he slowly pumped Harry's length with his fist.

"Could you really do that?" Harry asked skeptically as he mirrored Draco's movements, their hands brushing sensually along one another's abdomens as they worked. "I'm not sure I could."

"Maybe my willpower is stronger than yours," Draco gloated until his head fell back again when Harry squeezed him tightly in response to that challenge.

"I think you're wrong," Harry whispered against his ear, using his other hand to explore the rest of Draco's naked flesh. He was stunning, head to toe pale and gleaming, his entire body seemingly devoid of hair except the brilliant blond tuft at the base of his cock. Harry relished in the gift of being able to caress that smooth as silk skin and call it his.

Draco Malfoy _was_ his, Harry owned him as surely as he owned his own soul. Every drop of sweat dripping down the blond's face, every strand of angelic hair on the boy's head, every pant that seemed to whisper his name on the air belonged to him. "You're mine," Harry breathed into the boy's ear. "All mine."

"Yes," Draco replied with a weak nod, his body was already tensing and getting close to climax; Harry's possessive tone nearly sent him over the edge.

With slow precision, Harry pushed Malfoy down into the mattress, before moving lower on the boy's body while Draco simply stared curiously up at him. "Do you trust me?" Harry asked and Draco simply nodded, his hair lovely and disheveled from Harry's attention.

He pulled at one of Draco's knees, bringing it into the air and he nipped along the inside of Draco's thigh, making the boy squirm. As he grew closer to the blond's straining groin he started biting harder, and Draco's breathing grew more rapid. Just when the Slytherin thought he'd reached the highest plateau of pleasure, Harry took him higher when his mouth closed around his pulsating cock. The feeling was too much and Draco worried that he would explode too soon, ending their fun before it had really begun.

Harry wouldn't allow that, however, and immediately began tugging sharply on Draco's balls to bring him back to Earth before devouring him again. When Draco felt Harry's finger breach him, he didn't know what was happening at first. All he knew was that by some magnificent force his pleasure was heightened once more. Never had he been filled with such a wanton abandon, but he found himself grinding down on Harry's finger, pleading for more.

Everything was so sharp and clear in his mind that Draco could even feel Harry smiling around his erection as he pressed second and then third finger to join the first. Harry was going to fuck him and Draco couldn't bring himself to mind anymore. In fact, when the fingers pulled away, Draco found himself whimpering for the pressure to fill him once more, though when he felt Harry line himself up at Draco's entrance, his fear immediately resumed and he felt his body tense up again.

"Do you trust me?" Harry asked soothingly, running his fingertips along Draco's heaving chest. "I promise to be gentle."

Draco released a deep breath and relaxed slightly before giving him a curt nod, indicating that he was ready, and Harry pushed into him, his size a vast contrast to the ease with which he slipped his fingers inside of him. Wincing against the sudden onslaught of pain, Draco closed his eyes tightly, but, with his legs locked Harry in position inside him when he tried to pull out.

"I don't want to hurt you," Harry whispered, trying not to move.

"I was much rougher with you, Harry," Draco told him, as if that made the pain more appropriate.

"But I," he began until Draco cut him off with a lust coated glare.

"Just fuck me, Harry," he groaned and Harry obliged, pushing himself all the way inside the waiting Slytherin. Harry pulled out and pushed back in slowly, this time adjusting his angle so that when he thrust back in, he hit that perfect spot that made Draco cry out. "Oh, Merlin, yes!"

Harry smiled and picked up his pace and before long he was pounding into the blond's tight hole as he lifted them both off the bed with his movements. Draco's body felt so good, like nothing Harry had ever experienced before as he sheathed himself inside the glowing boy over and over again.

It took only one stroke of Harry's strong grip on Draco's throbbing cock to send the boy over the edge, which in turn took Harry with him into shuddering orgasmic bliss. "I love you, Harry," Draco panted as Harry fell on top of him and Draco wrapped his arms around the boy's back.

"I love you, too," Harry whispered, kissing a sweaty spot on Draco's chest.

"So then you won't leave me?" Draco inquired, their argument now forefront in his mind after his body had been sated.

"It doesn't appear that I'm capable of that," Harry teased, smiling up at his Mate before kissing him tenderly.

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Draco's clutch on Harry's hand grew more insistent as they got closer to the Dungeons and the Potion Master's waiting form. They were already late, a fact that neither Harry nor Draco thought they would escape punishment for, even though it was only Harry that had the detention in the first place. He didn't know what to expect, and worried that his godfather was going to hurt his Mate in return for trying to keep the boy off limits from him.

He could feel Harry growing tenser beside him. They already discussed that whatever happened in that room wouldn't affect their relationship, but he knew Harry was nervous that it would and, honestly, Draco was nervous as well. He knew the power that boiled in the veins of the older Potions Master, and he also knew how seductive and conniving his father could be; together they were a deadly pair and it was almost assured he would lose Harry to them one way or another.

"I love you," Draco whispered desperately as Harry reached for the doorknob. He never thought he would find a person he could be so honest with and he didn't want to lose that feeling.

Harry pulled his hand back and instead brought Draco closer, placing a soft kiss on his temple. "I love you, too. You don't have to worry about me. I can stand up to Snape."

Draco sighed and nodded. If anyone could it was Harry Potter, but unlike his Mate, Severus and Lucius would fight dirty. "Go, before I change my mind and steal you away."

With a reassuring, but anxious smile, Harry walked into the Potions classroom, staring in dismay at the sight before him. A large wooden structure was erected in the center of the room, thick leather straps hung from each corner, their heavy metal buckles shining in the dim light of the room. In addition to the frightening display –something he might not mind exploring with Draco but certainly didn't wish to be strapped into by Snape- was the professor himself, his cloak discarded in exchange for tight leather pants, and pants alone.

Draco's hand tightened around Harry's so forcefully that it hurt the boy, and without a word he tried to pull Harry away from the scene before them. A silent spell from Snape's wand had them rooted to the spot, however, and within moments he was levitating them both to hover right before him.

"Well, this is an interesting development," Snape noted wickedly. "One that your father will no doubt find _fascinating_."

"Leave Harry alone," Draco managed to spit out before a rag flew from the table behind them and wrapped tightly around Draco's mouth, effectively gagging him. Another bit of cloth followed suit and Harry was silenced in a similar manner.

"Yes, I do believe I'll be enjoying myself this evening. I have two young whores to play with instead of only one," he mused aloud, his voice melodic and sweet in contrast to his twisted words. "Whatever shall I do?" he asked no one in particular, his tone dropping to that biting octave he only used when reprimanding Potter. "Who wants to go first?"

Author's Note: So I've been slacking with my cliffhangers of late. How is this one for ya?


	11. The Bond

Author's Note: Many thanks to Laurel for her beta work on this. She really helped flesh out some ideas here.

Chapter 11 The Bond

Harry felt his wand being forcibly pulled from his robe pocket and watched as Draco's was removed in the same manner. Neither boy could move, having each been hit with a hex that stilled their every movement. The large wooden structure loomed ominously just out of sight, and Draco couldn't think what to do to save himself or his Mate from the fate Snape seemed to have in mind for them. His father would surely hear of what he and Harry had done, nearly finalizing their bonds, and Harry would surely be livid with him if he knew that Draco had practically tricked him into it.

Fear had caused Draco to lie, or at least withhold the truth from his Mate. One thing that he knew about their legacy that he was sure Harry didn't was that once they'd made love, fully giving one over to the other, then there was only one lesser step left until they were bonded for life. They had each confessed their love, they had each relinquished their bodies, and now all that was left was for a simple incantation to seal it. Once that happened, Harry could never leave him even if he wanted to, their connection would keep them forever tied to one another.

Snape spared no time physically prying the two gagged boys apart, before scrutinizing which of his precious new visitors he'd place in the harness first. Harry was fuming, his entire body trembling with the rage of being forced into such a situation; Draco was trembling too only he was shaking with fear. No doubt he could clearly see what Snape's intentions were and he was still sore from Harry's intrusion only moments before. He also knew the power Snape had to be able to turn him over to his father's discipline, something that would make more than his arse horribly sore.

Still, despite the anger and fear each boy felt; Snape could feel the Incubus stir within them both, its lust purring against his bare skin. "I think I'll have young master Malfoy first," he cooed, finding the aroma of fear far too intoxicating to pass up. He knew that making his Mate watch as he defiled the tender blond would only make Potter's downfall in the end that much sweeter.

With long spindly fingers wrapped around his slim, pale wrist Snape pulled Draco forcefully over to the wooden contraption, swiftly stripped him of his clothing and strapped him in. Draco's hands stretched above his head and his feet splayed apart so that his body formed a pale 'X' against the dark grain of the wood. Even Harry had to admit the sight was breathtaking, but he didn't want Snape to be the one enjoying the spoils of his beautiful Mate on display so wantonly.

Draco was fully erect, made so by the Incubus stirring in his gut, setting his flesh on fire as he tried in vain to fight against the binds and the creature's instincts to enjoy this torture. Harry was rooted to the spot with magic, forced to watch his Mate strung up, and terrified of what Snape was looking to do. The Potions Master moved carefully around the blond, poking and prodding Draco with the tip of his wand as he circled him and surveyed his catch predatorily. When he reached the back of the boy's body, hanging with his arse exposed on the frame, his eyes narrowed and pierced Harry with a look of sheer jealousy.

"You've already had him?" Snape asked, flicking his wand so that Harry's gag fell from his mouth. He cast a silencing spell on the room instead, deciding that he'd rather hear the boys' scream after such a breach of protocol. He'd been present for the promise Draco swore to his father, but instead of giving Potter over to them, Draco went and sealed their bond instead. He wondered if the boy even knew what trespass he was committing with such an act. Harry now belonged to him and vice-versa. Still, that wouldn't stop Severus from stealing what he could before the bond had a chance to break the Incubus' lust.

"Yes," Harry replied defiantly. "And I'm not going to let you touch him."

Draco closed his eyes at the words spoken so freely from his lover's mouth. He wanted Harry, and it seemed the boy wanted him as well. Saying the incantation now would only speed up the inevitable, but would Harry feel betrayed when he discovered the Slytherin's trickery? If the bond was completed they would have an easier time standing against Snape now and Lucius later. It would soothe the beasts inside of them and give both of their bodies relief from the growing lust that was right now willing to attack anyone. "_Vos es mei, ego sum vestri. Eternus!_" Draco shouted quickly before Severus had a chance to silence him. He realized that it didn't matter what Harry might say because in the end they would be forced together like magnets.

Harry felt as though a house had fallen on top of him, smashing him as surely beneath it as if he'd been The Wicked Witch of the West. He blinked as his sight became more focused, sharper, and he was suddenly seeing things differently, as if from a more critical perspective. The stones that made up the wall seemed dirtier, unkempt, and the room could do with a deep cleaning, but none of these thoughts felt like his own. He could care less what filth the Potions Master lived in, but a new part of him sprung up in his mind to declare that it wasn't proper to live this way.

He could also feel Draco more acutely than ever before. He could sense the boy's fear, feel it as if it were his own, and he could nearly taste his sweet flavor even from there on the other side of the room. Harry squinted his eyes against the barrage of new emotions and unfamiliar sensations worming their way into his conscious mind, and he looked up to meet Draco's gaze, his flinty eyes looked softened by a desperate apology. Harry didn't know what was happening to him, but he knew in that moment that it was all Draco's fault.

With dangerous appraisal, Snape looked between the two boys, from Harry's fiercely burning eyes back to Draco's smoldering gaze and scoffed into the open air.

Snape dug his nails into Draco's thigh and let the boy's whimpers of pain wash over him. It wasn't all pain in his cries though, and even Harry could see Draco's cock twitch at the touch. "You can have his heart, I have little use for such nonsense," Snape muttered, letting his hand trail over Draco's heated flesh. "But I'm going to have him begging for me to take him while you watch."

Draco's eyes shot to Harry, a look of pleading apology within their depths. He could already feel his arousal snaking through his body and he knew that with minimal prodding, Snape may just have managed what he claimed. He didn't want to hurt his lover, but the Incubus was not so easily satisfied.

"This is ridiculous!" Harry shouted. "Why can't you just leave us alone?"

Snape laughed but refused to answer, instead he chose to spin the wooden contraption until Draco was hanging upside down, his face level with Snape's pulsing groin. He unzipped the leather trousers restricting his cock and let it fall free, its head glistening with precome. The member dangled there in front of Draco's mouth for a moment before the older man shoved himself into Draco's yielding folds.

He took Snape's cock into his mouth, gagging on it slightly from the odd angle. He had no control as the professor fucked his face, hitting the back of his throat with every thrust. But even through his arousal, he could feel his Mate's heart breaking through their connection by the act he was forced into. He could tolerate his Godfather abusing him, but he wouldn't stand for him hurting his lovely Harry.

With all his might he bit down on the intrusion in his mouth, smirking when he heard the howling shriek that came from his Potions Master. "You'll pay for that you spoiled brat!" Snape growled, pulling his injured cock from between his student's lips before transfiguring his discarded trousers into a vicious looking whip.

Harry's hearty laugh at his Mate's boldness quickly disintegrated when he heard the first crack of the whip hit Malfoy's perfect flesh. Not only had he heard it, and felt his entire body wince in sympathy, but part of him felt as though he could actually feel the sting of leather on his own chest. He looked down and saw a stripe of red welts blossom along his flesh and knew something was desperately amiss. A flood of anger washed over him, crippling his better judgment. Harry's body grew tense, and his emerald gaze focused on the hated man before a sudden burst of furious energy flew from his fingertips and into Snape's back, sending the Potions Master to his knees in roiling agony.

Draco's eyes went wide as they looked up to meet his furious Mate. "Harry," he whispered, but failed to gain the dark-haired boy's attention. He shouted after him much louder this time, begging Harry to stop, but Harry's mouth just quirked into a twisted grin as he watched Snape writhe on the floor and plead for mercy. "Love!" he shouted, trying a new approach, and this time Harry did look up, letting his spell fall away and Snape's consciousness along with it. The man slumped to the floor, his breathing uneven, and all Harry could do was smile blankly at him, before a swift shake of his head cleared the wicked thoughts away.

"Draco!" he rasped, as if the spell had depleted too much of his energy. "Are you okay?" he asked, as he rushed over to right his Mate on the heavy wooden contraption and removed the binds from his Mate's arms and legs. Draco fell awkwardly into his waiting arms, rubbing his wrists as he planted a firm kick in his godfather's side. The man didn't wake, just grunted at the added punishment.

Harry grabbed his stolen wand and levitated the Professor into the same binds he'd had Draco in only a moment before. The two boys went about harnessing him in, before placing a spell that would seal Snape's mouth closed until the Hex was released. Snape was a fool if he thought he could toy with Harry Potter or his Mate, he only wished they could be there when the man was found tied naked and unconscious on his own contraption. With a twisted smirk, Harry took one of the vials Snape had used to penetrate him weeks before and with an engorging spell, shoved it unceremoniously into Snape's exposed arse.

"We should get out of here," Draco whispered, his eyes widening at Harry's new punishment; it wasn't like him to intentionally hurt someone unnecessarily, even if it was justified. Snape had been tortured and knocked unconscious, Harry was merely toying with the man now.

With a nod, Harry went to Draco's side, helping the boy dress and then leading them both away from the dank dungeons and back to the safety of the Room of Requirement where they immediately feel into bed. "I can't believe that arse," Harry growled when they'd made it inside. "How dare he treat you that way?"

"Harry, do you even know what you did back there?" Draco asked, his heart still pounding wildly in his chest.

"I took our revenge," Harry replied, unsure about why Draco looked so upset over it. He only did it to protect Draco, after all. "He hurt you."

"You cast a wandless Crucio," Draco whispered, shuddering slightly at his own words. "Not even Voldemort was ever able to cast an Unforgivable without his wand."

"I-"Harry stammered, unable to fully understand what Draco meant. "I couldn't have. I… I just lashed out."

"With your magic," Draco corrected. "You sent raw magic into Snape's body. He might not ever wake up again."

"Good!" Harry shouted maliciously, but then his fingers went immediately to his lips as if to stop himself from saying more. "I don't know what's wrong with me," he whispered at last. "I could have killed him and I don't care."

"You were protecting your Mate, Harry," Draco soothed, pulling his distraught boyfriend into his arms. Harry was shaking and looked to be in shock; Draco didn't know what else to do. He was trembling himself, both from the implications of how they'd left their Professor, and the terrifying amount of power Harry had expelled so easily and without thought. He wasn't sure what to think of it, on the one hand, they might not be in such a powerless position against his father after all, but on the other hand, Draco didn't want to be on the wrong end of Harry's might.

"I didn't mean to," Harry murmured, his hands clinging to Draco's robes as if begging the blond to believe him.

"I know, Love," he assured the Gryffindor. "It was self defense. Who knows what Snape would have done to us had you not stopped him."

"You stopped him first," Harry reminded him, his eyes showing the green brilliance Draco was so familiar with. Since they had left the dungeons, those eyes had appeared cloudy and sightless until now.

"All I did was piss him off," Draco muttered. "Had it not been for me, you probably wouldn't have had to lose your control."

"He would have raped you," Harry hissed, not thinking it was a light matter. "I couldn't stand for that. You belong to _me_."

A shudder ran down Draco's spine, and he wished he could say it was all from pleasure at hearing those words from his lifelong Mate. Unfortunately, Draco worried for the first time since he'd gotten his inheritance and found Harry to be his Mate, what exactly he was getting himself into by binding himself to Harry Potter.

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Lucius Malfoy whiled away the time he spent waiting for his partner's arrival getting a mediocre blowjob from one of the slaves. She was a tiny little redhead and he imagined himself fucking the tight mouth of the Weasley shrew he'd set up to fall in Draco's second year at Hogwarts. He'd always hated the redheaded family and would have delighted had one of them turned Incubus, alas; it appeared their blood was purer than that of his own family.

Still, it wasn't as though Harry Potter was a consolation prize, not by any means. His cock twitched just thinking about getting to bury himself into the boy's tight arse. He might make Harry his personal slave for a year or two -or until he grew bored with him, whichever came first- before putting him on the mass market. The business wasn't wanting for money at the moment, and he could do with a little one-on-one training with the meddlesome brat, teach the boy a thing or two about obedience.

Stars burst behind his eyes from just the fantasy of pounding the famous Gryffindor into the mattress, sending a stream of hot white liquid into the slave's waiting mouth. She continued to pour her attentions on him until he swatted her away. Having barely enjoyed the appetizer, he wanted to move onto the entrée, and he wondered where his business partner was with Potter and his son. He knew Severus would have already had more than enough time to play with the boys, and he thought it was about time to have his turn with them.

Lucius marched over to the fireplace after adjusting his trousers back in place and threw a handful of powder into the gaping black maw. "Potions classroom, Hogwarts!" he shouted, before stepping into the green flames. It had taken many hours of research, intense concentration, and several failed attempts to be able to attach the Floo at Madame Scarlet's to Snape's quarters at the school, but the outcome had been perfect, they were now able to come and go as they pleased completely undetected.

The sight that met his eyes upon reaching the room had Lucius laughing in amusement; as undignified as laughing was, he simply couldn't help himself. His arousal was peeked, however, when he spotted the enlarged vial protruding from between the Slytherin professor's cheeks. At once, Lucius walked over and began to slide it in and out of his partner's arse, smirking when the man stirred awake and began to moan incoherently. At first Lucius thought Snape's moaning was because of the pleasure he felt at being penetrated by his own potion-making equipment, but he quickly realized that Snape was trying to talk to him. Lucius wasn't able to understand the dark-haired man's words because of a spell he assumed the boys had inflicted upon his mouth.

"You let two school students do this to you?" Lucius asked, his amusement at Snape's predicament was quickly replaced with annoyance at the fact he would have to wait even longer to find out what it felt like to be sheathed inside Harry Potter. His frustration fueled his motions and they became rougher as he pounded the vial inside of his dupe of a partner.

"Potter… so much power," Snape whimpered in reply, the feeling of pain from Lucius' ministrations was not enough to cancel out the pleasure as he moaned.

"All the more reason he should belong to me," Lucius snarled.

"Us," Snape corrected between heavy pants.

"Not the way you're going so far. In fact, if you keep up this folly, I might not even give over my son for your use," Lucius threatened.

"They've bonded," Snape groaned, whining in displeasure when the blond stopped his movements.

"They've what?" Lucius growled, his voice dangerously low. Snape didn't have enough energy to release himself without his wand, not that he could have since he had no idea where it even was. So, instead, he pulled and wriggled against his bonds as hard as he could, finally managing to free an arm so that he could undo the rest of the ties and climb down before pulling the vial from his arse and casting it into the rubbish bin.

"Draco let Potter fuck him, I saw the evidence tonight," Snape muttered as he pulled a school robe around himself; not that it really mattered, Lucius had seen him naked more times than he could recall.

"Malfoy's do not bottom," Lucius snarled. He'd never been so angry or disappointed in his son; he had never been so sincere in his desire to disown the brat as he was in that moment. Draco was no longer a Malfoy; he was just another debauched Incubus slave.

"Whatever you say, Lucius. What should we do now? I'm not sure it's wise to make another attempt from within the castle. I think our eagerness got the better of our common sense. People will notice if either of the boys go missing before the year is out. If we wait but a few months, we can place a note in Granger's hands telling Potter's friends that they had run away together," Snape reasoned.

"We could do that tonight," Lucius countered. He didn't want to wait even another day to see Harry Potter on his knees for him.

"Not without too much suspicion," Snape replied. He didn't know why he always had to be the logical one; Lucius too often thought with the head of his cock instead of the head on his shoulders.

"We should try gentle persuasion then. Next Friday, make sure Potter comes alone. I can come and save him from your evil clutches and get his promise to join our little family," Lucius tried. Snape rolled his eyes but nodded; knowing better than to openly disagree. He didn't think Potter would go for it, but who knew, maybe the boy was as dim as his father had been. If Lucius was persuasive enough, being the father of Harry's Mate might make all the difference.

"Our little family of whores," Snape added with a grin.

"Indeed," Lucius agreed, his eyes sparking with the triumph he had yet to attain.

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Author's Note: oh, dear. Poor Harry, poor Draco. Whatever will they do now?


	12. An Unwise Merger

Author's Note: Many thanks to Laurel for her beta work on this chapter. I think this story has helped inspire her to write another story about me, this time, instead of writing about my cliffhangers, she's writing about my smut. I'm sure she'll finish and post it soon, and what I've seen of it so far it rather witty.

Chapter 12 An Unwise Merger

Harry woke up feeling peculiar. It was the only way he could describe it. It felt as though his teeth were freshly brushed and his cheeks felt wind burnt, except when he ran his tongue over his teeth he felt that early morning film coating them as usual. Definitely peculiar. He rolled over, throwing his arm over the place he expected to find his Mate to be sleeping, but found the bed empty. With a jolt, Harry sat up and scanned the Room of Requirement for any signs of Draco, but there were none.

His mind went into panic mode, imagining all the awful things that could have happened to him while Harry soundly slept. Perhaps Snape had snatched him up to exact his revenge, or maybe the Headmaster had already pulled the boy into his office for questioning. How could he have let Draco be kidnapped while he slept? What kind of Mate was he? Even though his mind anxiously wandered to all sorts of dreadful things, he noticed his heart rate hadn't sped up, and when he stopped to take a deep breath so that he could think of what to do next, he realized he could feel Draco just as surely as he could feel himself. More importantly, he could somehow tell the other boy was safe.

He didn't have much time to dwell on the fact that he now seemed to have another consciousness mingling with his own before Draco crept quietly into the room, smiling when he saw that Harry was awake.

"Morning, Love," he called, setting his broom aside and rushing to jump into bed next to Harry, pulling him closer.

"What did you do?" Harry accused, remembering the incantation and the guilty expression on Draco's face the night before. His concerns of what the spell had been, and the changes he had experienced as a result, had all been lost in their haste to get away and smothered by Harry's guilt for what he'd done to his Professor, however deserved it was.

"I was just out flying," Draco replied, his eyebrows knit together in confusion. "I couldn't sleep and I didn't want to wake you. I left a note," he added, pointing to the folded parchment on the nightstand.

"I mean, what did you do to _me_?" Harry clarified. "I can feel you."

Draco blanched; obviously hoping he could skirt the conversation for a bit longer, or perhaps forever. "I- I finished the bonding," he stammered.

"What do you mean _finished_ it?" Harry asked, his voice more of a growl than he'd intended.

"Well, we started it when you and Snape and I first… er… well, you know," Draco replied, rambling like Harry sometimes did; it was odd to hear, the boy was usually so eloquent. "Then last night, when you made love to me, we completed the bond, but one of us had to say the incantation to finish it."

"I don't understand," Harry whispered, his skin prickling as if there was a ghost nearby.

"It's the bond between Mates," Draco explained. "We were in trouble, the bond is what allowed us to fight Snape off, it kept our Incubus' at bay so that we would only want one another."

"So, just to get this straight," Harry began, his eyes narrowing. "You decided to take away all my options?"

"What?" Draco's face had gone paler at Harry's assessment. "It's not like that."

"So, you didn't seal us together for the rest of our lives and make it so that no one else would make me happy but you?" Harry asked, already knowing what the answer would be. The Slytherin's presumptions made him furious. They'd only just come to some minor truce and then Draco goes and does this? It was too much.

"I, I thought you loved me," Draco replied, his face set into an involuntary pout.

"I do love you," Harry replied, and he softened at his own words. He _was_ in love with the git, but that didn't mean he wanted his life planned out for him without even getting a say. Why did that always happen, why did everyone in his life want some brand of control over him? Now that Dumbledore could no longer meddle in his affairs, Draco seemed to have taken up the mantle. He was so tired of being used and not being able to decide for himself how his life would turn out. They were still young. What if he found someone he was better matched to? What if they just weren't compatible enough to stay together for the rest of their lives? He felt stuck. It was like he fell asleep a carefree student and woke up with a husband and responsibilities.

"But why couldn't you talk to me about it first? Why couldn't we make the decision together when we were both ready?" Harry continued.

"I thought Snape was going to rape us both," Draco groaned. "I thought that the bond would help us resist."

"It sounds like it would have simply made the act painful instead of enjoyable," Harry countered.

"Do you want Snape?" Draco asked, looking abashed and deeply hurt.

"No!" Harry shouted and fell back into the soft pillows in frustration. "I want _you_, but what if that changes?"

Draco clutched his chest and Harry could feel the boy's heart break through their connection. He reached out, tried to grab Draco's hand, tried to tell the boy he didn't mean it the way it sounded, but Draco lurched away from him, nearly toppling off the bed as he did.

After a moment Draco seemed to regain his composure and Harry felt a wall go up between him and what he could feel of his Mate. The loss physically burned and brought with it the pain of the longing Incubus.

"I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you, Potter," Draco said, his voice the cold and distant tone Harry was familiar with from their many years as rivals. Even so, Harry would have traded away the familiarity of that voice to hear his Mate happy again. "I'll do my best to find a remedy to my error."

With that, he turned and stalked from their shared bedroom, and Harry didn't see or feel him again for the remainder of the weekend.

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Hermione stared across the table at him at breakfast on Monday morning with cautious pity in her eyes. Harry could tell she wanted desperately to ask why Draco hadn't eaten with them since Friday night, or what had happened in detention with Snape, or why Harry had been acting miserable and withdrawn all weekend, but she hadn't opened her mouth, much to Harry's amazement. He was grateful, of course, because he didn't know what he would say in response to any of those questions, but he was still shocked she hadn't tried to interfere; it was so unlike her.

Perhaps she knew it was for the best, just as Harry had been trying to tell himself all weekend. Draco was no good for him; even his friends could see it.

As Harry prodded his well-done sausage around his plate, he sighed, wishing he could get his heart and his mind to agree for once. He already missed the blond even though they had only officially dated for a single day. In spite of the fact that the few hours of happiness he felt were sullied by Snape and his perverted scheming, he had felt a connection to Draco outside of the bond that had been forced upon him –maybe even outside of the Incubus that stirred inside of him.

Instead of pumpkin juice, Harry poured himself some tea, an act that seemed to draw immense suspicion from his watching friends. "What?" Harry asked after taking a sip and deciding that he quite liked the warm liquid coursing down his throat.

"Feeling alright, Mate?" Ron asked, his eyebrows knit together in a frown.

"I'm fine," Harry assured him dishonestly. Ron's friendly term for him just brought on a fresh burst of heartache knowing that his own Mate wasn't speaking to him.

"Malfoy told us what he did to you, Harry," Hermione blurted before heaving a sigh of relief at her proclamation. She looked lighter, as if that news had been weighing heavily on her for quite some time, it certainly explained why she hadn't been prying into his current mood or Draco's absence –she already knew.

"Yeah, we don't blame you for giving him the sack," Ron added.

"I didn't give him the sack," Harry bit back rudely. "_He_ left _me_."

"But he said you were angry at him for bonding you two together," Hermione replied, looking confused.

"I was angry, I _am_ angry, but I didn't break things off with him. He's the one who walked out, he's the one who hasn't said a word to me all weekend," Harry huffed. "Why would he tell _you_ any of this?"

"He asked me to help him reverse the incantation," Hermione told him. "He seems rather broken up about it."

"Good," Harry scoffed. "He performed magic on me without my permission, he deserves to feel bad."

Hermione's face took on a look of abject horror upon hearing those words. Harry was never this cruel, even as he said those things part of him winced in reply. What was happening to him? How could he be so uncaring towards his Mate's? What was wrong with him now? Wasn't having a sex crazed beast locked inside his body enough without adding in a multiple personality disorder?

The mere thought of the Incubus had the creature's instincts rising up in him, forcing his eyes to seek out Draco, who was sitting across the Hall at the Slytherin table. Draco looked up and caught Harry's gaze, his own eyes hopeful for a moment until he saw the anger emanating from the raven-haired boy. With a sigh, Draco bowed his head back to his own untouched meal and Harry turned back to his friends. "Let's just leave it, okay? You don't like Malfoy, Malfoy isn't good for me, so we should just let it be."

"Harry, I think you should know, I've agreed to help him," Hermione stated, making it plain that her mind would not be changed. "He seems sincerely devoted to you."

"I'm sure that's just the bond," Harry replied coldly. "Help him if you must, just leave me out of it. I'll be happy enough to be rid of him."

Hermione and Ron shared a look of dismay before dropping the subject. Hermione went back to her book while Ron shoved his breakfast into his mouth and neither one brought up the 'M' word again.

Potions only brought more questions. Harry expected Snape to be extra cruel to him for the way he'd left him on Friday night, but the man seemed cold and indifferent as usual, and mostly avoided Harry outright. When the assignment was divvied out, Harry felt oddly comfortable with it and started right away. He had no problems dividing and mixing ingredients and had his potion to the appropriate lavender color before even Hermione did.

"How did you do that?" Hermione asked scathingly, staring from his cauldron into her own.

Harry merely shrugged and looked over her ingredients. "You need to add more parsnip root," he commented. "Just a thin slice more and then four clockwise stirs."

"That's not in the textbook," Hermione chided, narrowing her eyes.

"It's not?" Harry asked, pulling her book over. He hadn't even bothered to get his out. The moment Snape told them what the potion was they'd be brewing today Harry had instinctually known exactly how to make it.

"You're doing this from memory?" Hermione gasped, scrutinizing Harry with more suspicion than she had at breakfast. "What's going on?"

"How am I supposed to know?" Harry barked harshly. "Maybe some of Draco's potions talent transferred to me when he bonded us together," he reasoned, trying to calm himself down. He didn't understand why his temper continued to flair up at his friends. It certainly wasn't them he was angry with.

She spared a glance back at the blond who was diligently stirring his own potion. "But even Draco's reading from his textbook," she observed and sure enough, when Harry looked back, the boy was bent over the book, sliding his thin finger along the page as he read the passage.

A chill ran down his spine as he looked back into Hermione's wide brown eyes. "I-I don't know then," he whispered truthfully and it frightened him. Too much was changing too quickly and it was horribly overwhelming; he didn't feel like himself anymore, and this didn't feel like his life.

"I have a theory but I'd like to run it by Malfoy first," she told him, chewing at the inside of her lips as she tried not to look too worried. Harry only nodded. "Tell us both after class." He'd endure a visit with the blond who had betrayed and left him if it got him a resolution to whatever was wrong with him.

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The library was filled with second year Herbology students who were studying for a paper they had to write on Mandrake properties. Harry remembered that essay all too well and didn't envy the young students. He arrived first, letting Hermione and Ron round up Draco while he headed straight for a seat in the back, as far away from the other students as he could get, to wait for them.

It had only been two days but he could feel his body going through Draco withdrawals. He felt pathetic being addicted to Malfoy like a drug, toxic and blissful all at once. He wanted to wrap himself up in the boy and, if he died that way, he knew it would be a happy suffocation, but he wasn't ready for that. He wanted more from life than to be tied to the hip of a boy that, up until three days ago, he hated with all his might.

He didn't know how Malfoy could so easily cast their animosity aside, maybe because the blond was often the instigator of their fights, or maybe because, out of the two of them, Draco was far crueler. He had to admit that the soft and pliable boy he knew of late seemed completely different to the terrible Slytherin brat he'd been accustomed to, but a week of good behavior didn't outweigh years of bad. Then he had to take into consideration the fact that Draco had taken several liberties with Harry that were not his to take.

The Incubus wanted him, wanted to devour and keep Draco all for himself, but Harry wanted the opposite. He wished he could forget the way it felt to be buried deep within the boy, the way Draco looked with his eyes clouded with lust, or the way he practically sang his name with a need so palpable it set Harry's flesh ablaze. Merging the two parts of Draco's personality seemed impossible. Even if Harry could extract all the good bits and leave off the taunting and the sniping and the tricking, he still wondered if it could even work then. Perhaps he and Draco were just too different to be truly happy together.

Then there was this new development; the sudden burst of power he'd been unwilling or unable to control –he still didn't know which- the rage and bitterness he felt boiling within him even now, the heightened skills… none of it made and sense to him and he just wanted it all to go away, and take the Incubus along with it.

What he had hoped might turn out to be his first normal school year had turned into his worst yet. Voldemort might have been gone but he now had new evils to deal with, terrors that lay in wait beneath his own skin. Why couldn't he just have peace and quiet for once?

Harry could feel the moment Draco walked into the room. It was like the temperature shifted -growing warmer- and a heady scent filled his nostrils that hadn't been there before. His skin began to heat up until it was a blazing inferno and Harry nearly winced at the pain of it, but then when his eyes met Draco's stormy gaze it was like a soothing breeze caressed his skin, cooling his hot flesh to a more tolerable warmth.

"Potter," Draco greeted curtly with a stony expression. Harry was disappointed to discover he wasn't able to tell what the boy was feeling because of the powerful shields he'd erected between them.

Harry didn't say anything. He wasn't comfortable enough to call him by his first name, nor was he still angry enough to reply in like, so he simply offered the boy a soft smile and gestured to the seat beside him.

Draco's face softened somewhat at the gesture, but he took the seat across from Harry instead. Hermione and Ron shuffled in right after and Hermione sat next to Draco while Ron took the seat next to Harry. It was as if sides had been drawn on a battlefield, and the tension between everyone was nearly that palpable.

"So, Harry's been behaving… oddly since we saw him Saturday morning, and Draco, you said that you've been feeling off as well, am I right?" Hermione began, forgoing any pleasantries and just jumping to the heart of their problems.

Both boys nodded and Hermione then opened a large book she'd brought into the library with her. "I've read this over and over again and it didn't make much sense to me until this morning in Potions. You see, it says here that the bond you performed was a general incantation if what you told me was correct," she mentioned, directing her comment to Draco; apparently he had given her the incantation he used so that she could research a counter spell. "The incantation basically merged you two together so that you would share a single consciousness, which would be beneficial to you both with the Incubus lurking inside of you. I can see why it's part of the ritual for your kind. Once honed, not only would you would be able to sense one another anywhere in the world and be able to communicate without speaking, but your Incubus' would feed one another through your connection, which would allow for a smoother existence."

The bond certainly didn't seem like a bad thing once Hermione described it. Not feeling the urge to fuck something twenty-four hours a day would certainly be a huge relief to him. He couldn't imagine ever having the opportunity to have a real job, or even leave the house for any great length of time in his current condition. There would be no telling when the Incubus might emerge and how much damage Harry might do. But still, it irked Harry that Draco couldn't simply discuss it with him, and the fact that his Mate had made the decision without even consulting him was indicative of how things would most likely be between them forever. It was fairly obvious to Harry that Draco still saw himself as superior with all his high society breeding and social status, and that running Harry's life wouldn't have ended with this incantation.

"I agree it might have been useful," Harry replied at last, "eventually."

Draco's steely gaze met his for a moment and then returned to the page Hermione was pointing at.

"Well, the problem occurred from the very start I believe," Hermione pressed on. "When Draco spoke the incantation he wasn't specific enough, and since the spell is only the last of three ritual parts, it went awry."

"What do you mean by three ritual parts?" Ron asked.

"Well, the bonding must be performed on both sides, Harry had to give himself over willingly to Draco, and Draco had to return that favor, then the spell would complete the bond," Hermione explained and Ron flushed a deep crimson, wishing he hadn't asked.

"Oh," he muttered at last and Harry smiled slightly at his discomfort.

"But we did all those things," Draco told Hermione, ignoring Ron's obvious disapproval of him having sex with Harry.

"Well, yes you did, otherwise it would have failed outright, but as I said before, you weren't specific enough with the incantation. You didn't single out you and Harry to be bonded together, and since Snape was part of the first part of the ritual," she began, and then her voice tapered off as if she didn't have the stomach to say it out loud.

"Snape is inside of me too?" Harry shouted in disgust, drawing the attention of several students nearby.

Hermione shushed him and Draco paled even more than usual at the implications of what Hermione had said. "Yes and no," she replied in a hushed whisper. "My assumption is that he was only a minor part of your first time together, correct?"

Harry and Draco exchanged a look of confusion, neither knowing exactly what Hermione meant by 'minor part' and not wanting to divulge more than was necessary.

"Did he penetrate either of you?" she clarified, a pink blush creeping up her cheeks as she asked.

"No," both boys replied in unison.

Ron looked queasy and Hermione seemed relieved. "And I also assume he had no part of the second time, correct?"

"Right," Harry answered.

"So, only part of his consciousness was shared with you two, but when Draco closed himself off to you, Harry, it made Snape's voice inside your head more prominent," she explained. Apparently she'd had a very long conversation with Malfoy if she knew that the Slytherin had severed their mental connection. "It would account for your heightened Potions knowledge and for your recent cruelty, Harry."

Harry opened his mouth to protest that he hadn't been cruel, but he quickly snapped it shut. It was true, he had been constantly bitter and angry over the last few days and he hated it. "But then why isn't Draco having these issues?"

"He would be if he let his wall down," Hermione told them. "I believe it's even affecting Snape, he was in a better mood than I've ever seen him today."

"Which is sad, because a good mood for Snape is still a bad day for everyone else," Ron muttered and the group all found themselves nodding.

"So, what now?" Harry asked.

"Now we try to reverse the incantation and set things to right," Hermione replied.

Harry and Draco exchanged a look across the table, both boys longing to touch one another but afraid of what that would mean. Draco wanted Harry more than he'd ever wanted anyone, and that alone scared him. His father was still waiting in the shadows to pounce on them and separate him from Harry and, from what he could tell, Harry would prefer to be severed from him.

On the other side of the table Harry was just as conflicted. He truly felt as though he was in love with his Slytherin Mate, but was love enough? Draco had already proven that he was capable of being underhanded with him and negligent of his feelings and rights. He felt as though he couldn't trust the boy, and what good was love without trust?

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Author's Note: I really love the twists and turns this story is taking on me and it has ended up even deeper than I imagined it could be.


	13. Eavesdropping

Author's Note: I'll warn you now, this chapter is Snape-centric, so if you don't like him, I'm sorry, but he's a big part of this story. I hope my loyal readers will be able to take it as a plot point and not a detraction from the story and I hope any of you who think –like me- that Snape has his own uniquely sexy appeal, that you'll enjoy this chapter immensely.

Chapter 13 Eavesdropping

Harry had failed at nearly everything he'd worked at over the past week. His assignments – except for potions of course - his conversations, even flying felt awkward and uncomfortable to him now, and doubtless he had Snape to blame for that as well. As much as he'd like to place complete responsibility on his Potion Master's shoulders, Harry knew it was mostly Draco's fault he was in this mess.

Had he consulted Harry first, they probably could have avoided merging the minds of three men together into one helpless mass. But, of course, Draco didn't see it that way, instead he thought that Harry was being an ungrateful prat and had shielded himself away so that Harry was left alone in his mind with Snape.

Hermione had taken time out to try and teach Harry how to shield but he was rubbish at it. Just like Occlumency, Harry couldn't seem to grasp the subtle nuances it would take to shut his mind away from both Draco and Snape while still being able to function properly. It was bad enough in Potions when he'd look over at a student and judge their proficiency as Snape would normally be doing, but it was another thing entirely to have the ball of bitter rage in his belly that must accompany Snape on a daily basis. It made him feel a bit sorry for the ill-tempered man because if Harry's life had been littered with the gnarled things he saw in Snape's mind, he might have turned out just as cruel.

However, he'd found that the longer he spent sharing Snape's consciousness, the more obvious it became that the cruelty was just a mask. Snape liked his job, he was good at it, and he enjoyed passing his knowledge down to others. Despite his demeanor, he actually silently celebrated when a student did well and was equally disappointed when they messed up. Most of his brutality stemmed from his disappointment in himself for failing his students when their potion brewed was incorrectly. Snape led a quiet life. He had no real friends; only his mentor Dumbledore and his business associate Lucius. It was hard to look into the Potion Master's mind and see with his own eyes that his assumptions of the man were wrong, but Harry was learning so much that he didn't bother trying to shield him as much as he probably should.

The worst by any depth of reasoning was at night. When the castle grew quiet and still, Snape's mind wandered and Harry picked up on flashes here and there of his thoughts. Most were mundane, things like reviewing his schedule and curriculum for the following day, or wondering how Neville Longbottom had managed to live as long as he had with his tendency to ruin and backfire spells, but on some occasions his mind took him to more interesting places and Harry found himself watching the man's memories as if he were in a Muggle cinema watching a dramatic film. Snape respected Harry's power, even the display he'd fallen victim to the weekend prior, and he knew from Dumbledore's word that Harry was nearly cast into Slytherin, which intrigued Snape to no end. He could also feel that Snape was battling against orders from Lucius, though what those orders were he was unable to make clear.

One evening Harry had been curled up in an armchair pretending to read his Transfiguration textbook when his mother's face flashed before his eyes. At first he thought he was daydreaming again and his subconscious mind had drifted to thinking about his parents, but the images were clearer than usual and it was then he realized it was Snape's memories of her that filled his mind's eye. She was so pretty and clever and it was obvious by the way that Snape doted on her that he was in love with her. It made Harry wonder how different his life would have been if it had been Severus who had won his mother's affections. Quickly he shook the thought away as his conscience reminded him that he'd had sex with Snape, and it doesn't do a bit of good to imagine having sex with one's father.

A shudder ran through his body at the thought and he felt filthy all over, so he excused himself from the common room and decided a shower was in order. As the warm spray beat upon his shoulders, another pair of green eyes filled his vision and he realized that Snape was thinking about him. He was thinking about the way his hair fell to cover his scar, the way his mouth twitched when he tried to conceal a smile, the way that same mouth felt on Snape's cock, and Harry found he could remember that vividly as well. Before he knew it he was wanking in the shower over the joint memories of that night, the images all blurred together in his mind until he didn't know which were his and which were Snape's.

Harry's knees nearly buckled with his release and he slumped against the cool tile wall to try and regain his balance. It was then that he realized Snape had been pleasuring himself with the memory too, and he didn't know exactly what to think about that. Part of him was disgusted, but mostly he just felt confused by the entire situation. It wasn't the act itself that confused him, it was the fact that he could feel Snape like a second skin; he could sense the man's emotions as clearly as he sensed his own and Snape was fond of him in a way Harry hadn't suspected before. He thought all Snape wanted was to fuck the Gryffindor Golden Boy, perhaps get back at Harry's father in his own twisted way, or even try to live out the romance he'd wished he'd had with Harry's mother, but no. Snape fancied Harry for reasons that had nothing to do with any of that, although, he did feel all those reasons mingled and mashed in there as well, along with his loyalty and love for Lucius Malfoy.

That was another problem altogether. When Snape wasn't thinking about class assignments, particular students he detested, or fantasizing about Harry, he was thinking about Lucius. Harry tried to shut down those memories and thoughts, but it was difficult. In the end, he found that redirecting his thoughts was far easier than trying to shut them down completely, so whenever Snape thought about Lucius, Harry counteracted it by thinking about Draco, which was certainly better but not without its own flaws.

Thinking about Draco just made Harry's Incubus flame to life inside of him, clawing his chest as if it were a tiger held captive by Harry's ribcage. It was excruciating and several times Harry had to physically stop himself from going to Draco when that happened. He was still conflicted over his feelings for the blond and he'd resolved that he would try to avoid him until Hermione found a cure for this binding. He knew that even one moment alone with Draco would turn to snogging and then more and Harry wasn't ready for that yet. He still needed time to think and, luckily, Draco was giving him that time, although based on the tight looks he shot Harry across the Great Hall or in class, Draco wasn't happy that he had to give Harry this time apart.

It was pertinent to Harry's sanity that he stay away from both the men he was attached to as much as possible. Now that he was bound mentally to Draco and Snape, the Incubus found them nearly equally delicious, and with the flood of emotions and memories constantly barraging him from the Potions Master, Harry was beginning to get a stir of genuine feelings toward the man. During Potions he tried to avoid all eye contact, which was easier now that he wasn't botching every potion he laid his hands on, so the professor had no reason to hover and berate him. He picked out of the man's mind that he didn't compliment students who did well because when they moved on from the classroom and into wizarding society, praise was not something the students would be able to count on, so he didn't want them to get used to it. Though Harry suspected that it was also because he enjoyed making people feel inferior even if they did well –but that was only because Snape often felt inferior himself and liked to pass the feeling along when he could.

It was easier to avoid Snape than it was to avoid Malfoy, who he shared nearly every class with, but it was manageable and all through the week he did his best not to interact with him. His efforts to keep the Incubus at bay but led him to constant distractions as he used his mental connections to maneuver through the castle without bumping into either of them.

When Friday night came along, Harry had a decision to make and it wasn't an easy one. He had detention, which was mandatory of course, but he couldn't chance being alone with Snape. Now more than ever, he feared what would happen if he was locked inside a room with the man. So, out of necessity, he skipped his detention and instead spent his time in his room attempting to do homework.

Harry only first noticed that this simple dismissal wasn't going to work when he caught sight of the Fat Lady's portrait through someone else's eyes. His heart sped up as he realized he had no easy escape; Snape was coming to find him. Diving for his trunk, Harry extracted his invisibility cloak and threw it over him, hoping Snape would discover the room empty and leave.

Such was not the case, however.

Harry watched as Snape entered and shut the door behind him, his obsidian gaze casting over every nook and cranny in the round dorm room until they stared squarely on him, as if the man could see through the cloak and into Harry's very soul. He looked down to make sure his trainer wasn't poking out or that there wasn't some other giveaway to his location, but he was thoroughly covered. How could he know Harry was there?

"I can _feel_ you, Potter," the man said, as if in answer to Harry's silent question. "I can feel your thoughts in my head, you're projecting your location right to me."

Harry removed the cloak with a sigh and tossed the shimmering bundle of fabric to his bed. There he was, Snape staring holes through him and all Harry wanted to do was kiss him. He was defeated; there was no hope for him now.

He was surprised to a faint blush creep across Snape's cheeks at his thoughts and it took all of Harry's willpower to shield against diving into the professor's mind to discover what he was thinking about.

"What I don't understand," Snape said, clearing his throat sharply as if that would make the crimson blush fade away, "is why you thought it prudent to skip my detention."

"I can't be near you right now," Harry admitted. It would simply save time to be honest since the professor could pluck the truth out of his mind with ease anyway. It seemed their close proximity made it even easier to read one another, and Harry was picking up confusion and lust from the older man.

"Because you want me?" Snape pressed as he took a step forward.

"My Incubus does," Harry clarified. He wasn't ready to admit that he might be having feelings other than loathing toward the man.

"I see," Snape replied, and he knew the man saw quite a bit. No doubt he could see that Harry was looking at him differently, noticing the way his robes draped almost elegantly on a body Harry already knew was surprisingly fit. He surely recognized that Harry thought he looked graceful as he walked, and that his hair looked shiny and soft tonight, not greasy from potion fumes. It was embarrassingly obvious that Snape had at least sensed his affection for the man's voice, which happened to be one of his favorite things about the professor; that deep lilt that sounded vibrating and seductive even when he was merely listing off ingredients for the students to fetch. The Potions Master gave Harry a subtle smirk and drew closer, so close that Harry could catch his scent, a heady and musky aroma, and his Incubus caught it too.

"I'll be sure to speak more often in your presence if it truly has such an effect on you," Snape purred against the shell of Harry's ear. The sensation was all it took for the Incubus to rear its ugly head and attack the man in front of him.

Their lips crashed together in a hurried manner, as if neither could live without the other. Harry linked his arms around Snape's neck and the man lifted him up so that Harry could wrap his legs around his waist. The position pressed Harry against the wall behind him and had Snape's generous erection pressing into Harry's arse, the effect of which was maddening.

He didn't want to lose control and he didn't want to give up his fight for independence from either of the men in his life, but the pull of the Incubus was certainly not a feeling he could ignore. He felt the man tearing at his robes, trying to get his hands on bare flesh and all he could do was murmur his desire against the man's probing tongue.

Harry could feel more than desire beaming from Snape, however, though he wasn't sure the Potions Master had even reconciled those thoughts yet. Love and adoration was whispering over his body and Harry realized the feelings were coming from Snape of all people. It was hard to trust it though, not with the unprecedented situation that had been thrust upon them.

"Snape," he gasped when their mouths pulled apart for air. The man had Harry's shirt and robes pulled off as he angled to suck at Harry's exposed neck. "Please…look at me."

The plea snapped through the lusty fog the Potions Master was drowning in and he lazily glanced up into Harry's eyes. "Call me Severus," the man whispered and Harry nodded, though he wasn't sure he'd be able to break years of habit.

"We can't do this here," Harry said clearly, forcing the Incubus back into its resting place. It took a lot of energy to try and control the beast but he achieved it…for how long, he had no idea.

A flicker of understanding flitted through Snape's eyes and he nodded. "It would be highly inappropriate to take you here in the Gryffindor dorms," he agreed. "We can go to my private quarters."

Conflict rose up and tore at him again. He couldn't willingly accompany the man to his private bedroom when he knew very well what the outcome would be. They would have sex and Harry would regret it in the morning when it made everything more awkward and confusing than it already was. "We shouldn't do this at all," he whispered at last.

Harry's legs were still wrapped tightly around his professor's waist and his lips were swollen from the attack on Snape's lips and the uncomfortable rub of the older man's mild stubble. His hair was disheveled – even more so than usual –and his body was betraying his mind in the worst ways. Snape's nails dug sharply into his arse making Harry groan and rut against the Potions Master.

"Perhaps we shouldn't," Snape conceded. "Merlin knows I realize how wrong it is. You're of age, but you're still my student. You're under the protection of the Ministry and Albus and if either of them found out about us it would be my head, but I-" His voice cut off there but the sentence finished in Harry's mind as if Snape had spoken it aloud. _'But I love you, Harry."_

Harry swallowed thickly, unsure about what to do. Draco had professed his love to him as well, and Harry could feel conflicting affection for both of them, but he didn't want either. He wanted a normal relationship. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life bound to the deceitful Slytherin blond or the pushy potions professor. But right now his Incubus wanted Severus, and since the beast within him was the only thing that had a clear answer, Harry gave in.

Snape was the one to initiate the kiss this time, no doubt hearing the shift in Harry's thoughts, and it was gentler this time, as if Snape was determined to take care of him and worship his body. He could feel more than see Snape casting wards on the door. They wouldn't be going anywhere and no student would bother them until Snape was ready.

When Severus carried him over to the bed, Harry nearly moaned, the action made their cocks rub together with delicious friction. Snape took his time in finishing his undressing and admiring of Harry's body, softly caressing his exposed skin as he worked. Harry wondered briefly if he was being manipulated, but he could feel Snape's wanting like a palpable force, and it wasn't want for sex – at least not sex alone – it was for love. Snape, more than anything, craved for someone to love him and he hoped that Harry could be that person.

Harry nearly sobbed at the thought of letting the man down, as he surely would. He had to feed the Incubus, but he couldn't see himself waking up in Snape's arms every morning, having quiet walks by the lake or taking their meals together. He couldn't see a relationship… not even the scant image of the companionship he could see with Draco. He also wondered how much of these feelings were Snape's and how much were a mingling of Draco's and his own personalities squashed into the older man's consciousness. Perhaps it was only his and Draco's teetering emotional states that brought Snape's true feelings to the surface.

Snape picked up on these thoughts at once and halted in his movement, staring up into Harry's emerald gaze. "I'd prefer you not share what you steal from my head with anyone else," he told him and Harry shook his head in dismay.

"I would never," he replied honestly.

"Never?" he asked, and Harry knew the question was actually 'Are you sure you could never love me?' and since Harry wasn't completely sure, he just stared back. "Perhaps I could persuade you," he whispered and pressed a kiss to Harry's swollen lips before casting a silent Charm that left Harry lubricated and ready to take Snape's length. The Incubus lingered inside him, growing hungry and impatient and it left no room in Harry's mind to reason this out, to protest, to do anything but lay there and accept his fate.

As the man slid into Harry, all his doubts fled away to make room for his desire. His eyelids fluttered closed and his lips parted as he thrust back on the intrusion. Everything was perfect for one singular moment as if the planets had aligned and were about to give Harry some cosmic advice…but then there was screaming.

The scream was more of a desperate and strangled cry, and Harry knew that if the sound of a heart breaking could be audible that would be what it sounded like. It wasn't from his own throat or from Snape's, and from the look on his face, Snape had heard it too. After a panicked glance around the room showed that there had been no break in Snape's wards, Harry realized that there was only one option left.

Draco.

Author's Note: How is that for a cliffhanger, eh? I'll be waiting for the emphatic 'poor Draco's' to be coming in any moment now. Although, honestly, I feel bad for the whole lot of them.


	14. Betrayed

Author's note: Thanks to Laurel for her beta-reading of this chapter. Despite my lack of posting lately, I have quite a bit to post this week as Laurel has plowed through the pile of chapters I made for her last week.

Chapter 14 Betrayed

The scream that rattled in their minds was nothing short of blood curdling. Snape removed himself from Harry's body and his bed as if the boy had burned him and he fell to the floor clutching his head as if that might dampen the sound of Draco's anguish. Harry knew it wouldn't.

Draco had been shut off from them, his mind snapped closed like a steel trap, and Harry had forgotten that Draco could still listen in whenever he liked. Conflicting emotions tore through him in quick succession as he tried to process what damage had been done. He was livid with Draco for forcing him into this mess, he was hurt that Draco had shut himself down so tightly to escape him, and he was angry that the blond had the audacity to listen into his private life and react so jealously.

On the other hand he was riddled with despair that he had hurt Draco, however inadvertently, because that was never Harry's intention. Draco's pain was his pain and he felt his heart shattering into pieces just as surely as Draco's did.

Summoning a deep breath, Harry clamped his eyes shut and tried to think at the boy he loved and hated all at once. "_Draco,"_ he whispered silently through their shared connection. He could feel Snape there, lingering on the edge of his consciousness, his own mind battered by the recent exchange. He could feel his confusion like a palpable force and he knew then that Snape had no idea the three of them were magically joined. Well, he did now.

_"Draco, I'm so sorry," _he tried again, but the only answer he received was the refastening of all the defenses around Draco's mind. He locked Harry out again Harry was left staring at a naked Snape leaning back against the mattress. He looked thoughtful, perhaps even intrigued, and just as surely as Draco had shut Harry out, Snape did the same. He should have known earlier by the fact that he could so readily read Snape's mind that he hadn't know they were all connected. Snape suspected that something was off, surely, but he hadn't deciphered the puzzle as Hermione had, probably because he didn't have all the pieces until now – until he stole them from Harry and Draco's head.

"Severus," Harry whispered, aloud this time, but he didn't look up. His old charm had settled into place again. He was radiating discomfort, but Harry had a feeling it had less to do with the fact that he was still nude and more to do with the fact that lowly students had solved a mystery he hadn't even known existed within his own consciousness. "Look at me, please."

"I can't," he said at last. "These last few days have left me feeling conflicted. I loathed you, Harry. I loathed what you stood for, what you took from me," he whispered. Harry didn't have to ask what he meant, he opened a tiny hole in his defenses and let him see that he had always blamed the boy for the actions of his parents; for his father wooing his mother away from him, and for Lily's death. She died to save him after all, and some days he felt just as responsible as Snape thought him to be.

Harry pulled the sheets up around him to hide his own naked body, as if that would make him feel more secure. "But you-" he began, but the words wouldn't leave his throat. Snape had professed love and devotion only moments ago, and now Harry could see that those sentiments were not born from his own heart, but planted there by his connection with Draco. The love he spewed from his mouth was Draco's, not his own…not completely.

"Now that the seed has been sewn, I feel it," he told Harry, mirroring the analogy that Harry had used in his own thoughts. "I feel his love for you as my own and it's terribly…unsettling," he added, unsure of how exactly to put his feelings into words now that Draco was missing from his mind. "Who knew Lucius could raise such a sentimental sap."

"He's clever and beautiful and had more heart than you ever will," Harry spat. He couldn't believe he'd just had this man inside of him, this traitor, this thief. He stole Draco's love and unknowingly wielded it as his own in order to bed Harry again, and, of course, he was ignorant enough to fall for it. He wanted to be furious, wanted to be indignant and rude, but he knew that all three of them were simply a product of a spell gone awry.

"He's as mushy as a Hufflepuff and that's your fault as well. He was a pride to the Malfoy name before he slept with you," Snape scoffed, finally standing and pulling his clothes into place.

"So, just to be clear, you don't love me," Harry announced harshly through narrowed eyes, but Snape merely stared back at him, seemingly deep in thought.

"I do love you, Harry," he replied at last. "Draco's love for you is so pure and engulfing that it has washed away my own loathing and replaced it with his adoration of you. How you managed to make a Malfoy fall to his knees so completely is beyond me, Harry, but you did."

Harry's heart gave a sharp stab at the comment and he momentarily felt like an idiot for giving Draco up. However, he quickly reminded himself that it was Draco who did the leaving, not him, and it was Draco who had taken liberties with his mind and his heart that were not his to take. But now, hearing the words fall from Snape's lips that Draco loved him so much he could turn the Potion Master's hatred into affection, it made him want to forget their problems and move into the stage where they made up…vigorously. His Incubus was fine with that plan as well since it had been denied release and still crawled uncomfortably under his skin.

"Just leave," Harry groaned, unsure of how he would ever explain this to Draco, how he could ever make it up to him.

"I don't think that's wise. He's fetched his father and they are both on their way up here to capture you," Snape replied, as if he were reading a passage from their potions textbooks.

"How do you know?" Harry asked, but Snape didn't say another word, he just let Harry see the snapshots he'd stolen from Draco's mind. "I was worried about what he'd do, so I broke through his guard," the older man explained. "I hadn't expected this, however. He's betrayed us both to his father."

"How?" Harry asked, panicking in spite of not knowing the reason. He feared Lucius for the simple fact that the man was intimidating, but he had no idea why the man should be of any concern to him now that Voldemort was dead. The look of sheer disdain on Snape's face let him know he had plenty of cause to worry.

"Lucius and I gather your kind and we exploit their…talents for profit," he explained quickly as he built upon the silent wards on the dorm entrance.

"You do what?" Harry balked. He'd been expecting an answer he wouldn't like, but not this.

"We prostitute them out to the magical community," he elaborated. "Since finding out about you, Lucius has tasked Draco and I with your capture."

"You and…Draco?" Harry whispered, his heart seizing at the idea of his lover betraying him so thoroughly.

"Don't be dim, Boy," Snape hissed. "If Draco had wanted you taken, you would have been taken by now."

"But he does," Harry corrected. "He's sending Lucius here now."

Snape's shoulders sagged and he nodded. "We hurt him and he's retaliating. But I'll protect you."

"Protect me?" Harry scoffed, harsh laughter tingling his lips. "You want to sell me to the highest bidder just like Lucius. Why should I trust you?"

"For one, I already told you that my feelings have changed, and two, you have little other choice at the moment," he hissed and the loving smile that had been lingering on his face turned into a more familiar sneer. "Get under the bed and stay there."

Harry was reluctant at first, but quickly obeyed when he heard a commotion downstairs. From underneath his bed, his gaze followed Snape's feet as he walked over to the large window by his bed and he listened closely as the man threw it open. Harry worried for a moment that Snape was trying to escape and leave Harry alone to fend for himself, but he could clearly see the man's black patent shoes walk back to the center of the room where he stood ready to fight.

A warbling blast echoed through the room as the first spell attempted from outside was thwarted. The next few proved more potent, and before long the door was splintered in two and Harry could see two new pairs of feet enter the room followed by a cluster of appalled Gryffindors. Harry could only hope that someone was going to flag down the Headmistress before it was too late.

"Severus," Lucius sneered as he entered the room with an elegant stride. Harry wiggled himself into place so that he could see as much of the angry Slytherin trio as possible without revealing his position. "I hear you've been having dalliances with the boy you've been requested to bring to me."

"I fucked him, if that's what you mean," Snape replied with a haughty smirk, and Harry heard a murmur of shock through the crowd of his housemates.

Lucius narrowed his eyes and scanned the room. "And where would our little Gryffindor slut be now?"

"He flew out the window when he heard your approach. He's probably halfway across the Black Lake by now," Snape muttered as if disinterested.

"Liar," Draco seethed and his eyes flicked over to Harry's corner of the room. "He's there," the boy pointed and with a deafening crash the bed that had been concealing Harry's body was magically hefted to the other side of the room and into three other beds. The sound was deafening as the beds crashed together and Harry flinched, wondering what he should do now.

It was Lucius who cast the spell, a satisfied smirk on his face, while his son looked both triumphant and scared. In the next moment a scream erupted from the center of the room so terrifying that most of the gathered crowd fled from the corridor, scrambling over each other as they went, as far away from the melee as possible. When Harry looked up he saw Snape crumpled in a pile at Lucius' feet, clutching at bleeding gashes all over his flesh before losing consciousness altogether.

"Betraying a Malfoy is not a good habit to start, Severus. Surely you would have learned that by now?" he addressed the whimpering lump that had once been a proud – if insufferable – man. "Trying to keep Potter all to yourself," he added, clicking his tongue in disappointment. "Very naughty indeed."

Harry stood pressed against the wall where his bed once stood and tried not to tremble at the thoroughness with which Lucius dispatched his only defense. His eyes flicked back to Draco's, pleading with him not to let his father take him, but Draco had found a particularly interesting floorboard to capture his attention and he stared at it unwaveringly.

Before he had time to react, Lucius was upon him, smoothing away a lock of pitch-black hair from his forehead. "My, my, you are a beauty aren't you," Lucius mused, his fingers caressing the boy's jaw in a detached way. "I can see why my son fell ignorantly for your charms."

"You've seen me before," Harry replied defiantly, trying to quell the stirring Incubus inside of him. "You saw plenty of me as you tried to murder me over the years."

"All in the past, my boy," Lucius replied as if speaking of spilled milk. "I had no idea then that you would prove to be so valuable to me."

"I'm not going to be your pet whore," Harry spat, his eyes narrowing as the power built in his gut and coursed through his fingers, itching for release. He felt it rise just as quickly as it had when Snape attempted to befoul his lover, and now it was his power to control, his power to shove down Lucius' throat and make him choke to death on his fury.

"Ah, but that's exactly what you'll be. Don't worry over it too much, Potter. You'll come to enjoy the pleasures I offer you," he purred. His fingers were still trailing along Harry's body, but not as a lover's would. Instead, Lucius seemed to be simply studying his newest investment and looking for defects in the product. "I think you'll find my skills far more experienced than what my son has shown you thus far."

The words drove Harry to abandon his indignant mask and replace it with the rage he felt bubbling to the surface. Lucius didn't notice it, as intent as he was in groping his prize, but Draco did and his gaze met Harry's for the first time since entering his room.

"No!" Draco shouted, and Harry could feel the blond's concern for his father's life seeping through the cracks in the defensive wall he'd erected. Harry stared back at him incredulously but the boy maintained his silent plea.

_'Don't hurt him, Harry. He's my father, please don't kill him,'_ Draco whispered through Harry's brain and the panic in Draco's voice melted away his rage. He couldn't bear to hurt Draco any more than he already had. He'd already betrayed the boy's trust; Harry couldn't murder his father right in front of him too.

"This is what you want?" Harry asked Draco since Lucius' thoughts were clear even without a mental bridge connecting them together. "You want me to go with your father?"

Draco didn't answer; he just bit into his bottom lip, tearing his gaze from Harry to his father and back again. "Of course this is what he wants," Lucius answered for him. "Draco will always want what is best for the Malfoy family, and once you have made me the profit I require, I'll hand you over to him to do as he pleases."

"And if I refuse?" Harry asked, his boldness slinking away as he resolved himself to his fate.

"Then I'll do the same to Draco that I've done to your beloved Potions Master," Lucius replied, a twisted smile on his face.

Harry's eyes flicked to the bloody form of Snape on the floor. He knew he was still alive, but it was a fine edge he balanced on and if he wasn't helped soon, Snape would perish right there in the Gryffindor dormitory. It would be an ironic death for the Slytherin professor, for sure, but Harry would wish the confused man no harm. When his gaze left Snape's prone form, his emerald eyes stared over at Draco who looked back at him defiantly. "I'll be your father's whore to spare you this." Harry gestured toward the dying man and saw Draco flinch before settling into a cold mask once more.

"You were already a whore, Potter," Draco hissed and Harry saw the image of him shagging Snape just moments before flood into his mind, projected there from Draco's own memory of the event. "The very least you could do is profit from it."

"I'm sorry for hurting you, Draco, but I think this makes us even," Harry replied sadly. He couldn't imagine the ache Draco felt at witnessing his moment of weakness with Snape, nor could he imagine the rage he must feel to willingly submit the man he claimed to love to this new brand of hell.

Draco gave a curt nod and left the room, not looking back even when he heard the yelp of surprise from Harry's lips as Lucius claimed his mouth. His Mate lingered in the doorway for an instant and Harry would have heard the conflict in the boy's mind had he not been otherwise occupied, but in the end, Draco continued on his path to flee the scene, intent on getting help for his godfather.

Lucius released Harry's mouth and tugged the boy roughly to the landing and down in the common room where the other students looked on. Harry noted Ron and Hermione's absence and hoped they were getting help, but it would be too late for him. Lucius pulled a handful of powder from his pocket and cast it into the fireplace and as the green flames erupted, he threw Harry into them before following close behind.

Author's Note: Laurel posed an excellent question at the end of her edits to this chapter, simple asking 'Why does Lucius think he can get away with this?' to which my only reply is 'Because he's a Malfoy.' but we'll see if he's right in due time.


	15. Lost

Author's Note: Thanks to Laurel for her diligent beta of this story no matter where it takes me.

Chapter 15 Lost

"What do you mean Malfoy's taken them?" Minerva hissed sharply at her ailing colleague.

Thanks to Ron and Hermione, Minerva had been alerted to the breach in the wards and had arrived at Gryffindor Tower in time to see the ruins of the Seventh Year dormitories and to find a dying Potions Master sprawled on the floor. The students all had a million questions for her when she emerged from the room, but she had answers for no one. She had done what she could to halt Snape's bleeding, and sent a boy off to fetch Madam Pomfrey, but there was little else she could do until she heard the entire story.

Things had been spiraling out of control since Dumbledore's death. The wards around the castle were weakening on a daily basis it seemed, and the war had taken its toll on them as well. She knew she could never hope to match the power Albus once had in this castle, her magic simply wasn't strong enough to renew the ancient building to its former glory on her own and she'd been hesitant to request the Ministry's assistance considering their ugly history with Hogwarts. Besides, she knew the Ministry was in shambles itself as it struggled to rise from the ruins Lord Voldemort had left in his wake. Minerva had hoped that the end of Voldemort and the secure reputation Hogwarts had upheld for centuries would be enough to keep would be attackers at bay for the time being, but tonight's breach was a clear sign that she was mistaken. Albus had been attuned to the wards in a way she'd always assumed would pass down to her as the new Headmistress, but it was as if the castle didn't recognize her as its guardian. Perhaps the school thought that someone else was better suited for the job and, not for the first time, Minerva worried that Albus had chosen a poor replacement as Headmaster.

The students had seen the skirmish, but their minds were left fuzzy on any details. Whoever had broken in and attacked her school had cast a very powerful confusion spell over the lot of them, so that even Ron and Hermione had been unsure why they were fetching her from her office.

It was only when Snape finally roused from his recovering sleep that she received the full story. She could hardly believe her ears when she learned that a man she'd grown to trust had been harvesting students from their school to participate in activities her mind had yet to grasp. Despite being understandably reluctant to divulge any details, Snape had been forced to tell her the tale in its entirety because she simply couldn't comprehend why Snape, Harry, Draco and Lucius would all be somehow involved in this twisted plot. By the time the Potions Master reached the end of his story Minerva wished she had heard the edited version and not asked so many questions. It made her feel quite ill.

That her dear Harry was an Incubus explained so much. Lily had been quite the alluring beauty in her day and Minerva had always sensed there was something more to it than common attraction. Minerva only wished she'd been less busy trying to hold the school together had been able to see the signs of Harry's true nature before Snape had caught wind and exploited it.

"I've half a mind to Hex you into smithereens, Severus," she ground out, her face set in the sternest of looks.

"I would no doubt deserve it." The words were punctuated by a groan and a wince as he tried to sit up in his bed. She had no idea if it was planned to bring about pity or not, but either way it worked. "I should have refrained from touching him, but he was just so…have you ever had an Incubus, Minerva?"

"No," she huffed briskly. It was well below her to discuss her previous relationships with a man who had betrayed them all for years. Apparently even Dumbledore had been blind to their scheme.

"Well, they're…delicious and addictive," he replied. "Once you've had an Incubus, all other sex seems quite ordinary and dull."

"Are you trying to excuse your actions? Because in my eyes, your abhorrent behavior-"

"Inexcusable," he finished for her quickly so he might avoid another lecture he did not need; he already knew he'd crossed many lines more times than he could remember. "I know. Trust me, I do. I'd like to offer my assistance in getting the boy back for you before you act out your punishment upon me. I know where the brothel is, I can take you there."

"We'll leave the moment you're up to Apparating," she assured him, loathe to even give him time to recover. She wanted to get her students back; Snape's welfare was the last thing on her mind, but she knew if he Splinched himself trying to help them, he wouldn't be even remotely useful in trying to find the two Seventh years. She had heard rumors of a relationship blooming between Harry and the young Malfoy boy, but she hadn't thought much of it. They had a cord of tension between them so tight that you could play a concerto upon it. It seemed only natural that both boys should find a release for that tension with each other. She had seen it happen before and wasn't surprised to see it finally manifest, although had she known the full scenario behind it she might have stepped in and meddled, as Albus surely would have.

Severus nodded and slipped back into a restless sleep while she sat there and pondered her options. She couldn't go alone with Snape, it could be a trap after all, but she didn't know who to trust enough with the whole story. The answer to her problem waltzed through the door in the form of Ron and Hermione who chose that moment to wander into the infirmary to see if she had any more information on Harry's whereabouts. She would normally never think of risking the safety of her students, but these two had proven themselves more than capable in combat and would do anything for their closest friend.

Knowing these two, they would try and track Harry on their own if she didn't invite them along with her anyway, which could be more dangerous than the three of them teaming up. She comforted herself with the assurance that this arrangement would be safest for all of them.

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Snape walked in brisk strides, trying to cover the fact that his body still ached from having his own Hex used against him by that rat of a Malfoy. The more he thought on it the more he decided the nickname of 'ferret' given to the man's son was far too kind of a name to be used on the elder Malfoy. It sickened him to know that he had once been in love with the man, and worse – that part of him still was.

Deep down he knew his love for Potter was false, but it drove him to the boy's rescue all the same. He felt the need to protect him, to care for him, and to make sure no harm befell his precious head. Minerva, Granger and Weasley were trailing along after him through the London streets. He would have protested about the last, not seeing what assistance a Weasley could possibly provide, but he was in no place to argue the wished of the Headmistress. She could have him wasting away in Azkaban with a wave of her tiny pinky, so he would do nothing to further anger her.

As he approached the sign that read simply _'Madame Scarlet's',_ he noticed something peculiar about the door. The frosted glass around the gold leaf letters was cracked. He quickly extracted his wand and gestured for the others to follow suit. The handle was unlatched, so he pushed gently on the door, watching it creak open to reveal an empty foyer.

His face set into a puzzled frown, Snape wandered though the lower floors, his wand leveled and ready to Hex anything that moved. It was as if someone had stripped the place bare, even the wallpaper had been torn from the walls. There was no furniture, no insipid Muggle staff and, more importantly, no Incubi.

As Weasley and Granger continued to patrol downstairs, he and Minerva went up to the next floor where he led her into a barren office. He checked the other rooms, just to make certain, though it seemed fairly clear that Lucius had already vacated the building while Snape slowly recovered from his wounds. It was only in the last room that he found any evidence that the man had even been there.

He heard Minerva gasp behind him and he quickly ushered her from the room as he went to check on the girl who was chained and naked on the floor. He didn't recognize the blonde girl at first; her face was twisted in agony, set in that mask forever in rigor mortis. Her wrists were still bound in iron and her fingertips were bloody from trying to claw out of them. Gaping wounds crisscrossed her body and he sighed as he realized that this was Abigail, one of their most promising girls. He'd heard rumors that the blonde had tried to start an uprising against them, but since Snape rarely spent time in the brothel, he'd only heard what Lucius had wanted him to know. He had no idea she'd been punished so extremely.

Snape knew that his partner had left her body here on purpose, a taunting note to say that Lucius could do whatever he liked and there was nothing Severus could do to stop him. He cast a powerful Incendio and watched as the woman's body was cremated before his very eyes. Taking a deep breath, filling his nostrils with the sickly smell of torched flesh to remind him of what he'd caused, Snape turned and left the room, unable to meet Minerva's stern gaze. He went downstairs and checked the concubine enclosure just in case but it was as vacant as he'd expected it to be.

"I'm afraid I've no idea where he's taken them. Malfoy Manor is large enough to hold them but Narcissa is no fool. She would never permit him to run such a place under her own roof. He could have temporarily split them up, or he could have been planning to move the establishment for a long time. With Lucius, I cannot guess. He's far too clever and scheming for his own good." It was obvious that Snape was bitter, and while both Granger and Minerva looked thoughtful, as if they were wracking their brilliant minds for ideas, Weasley just glared at him, his blue eyes smoldering with a passion Snape had never seen exerted on his potions homework.

"You've violated our friend," he growled, breaking the tense silence and leveling his wand at Snape's chest. "You've gotten him captured by the Malfoys and now you tell us there is nothing more you can do? Why should we keep you alive?"

Snape fought the urge to roll his eyes at the whelp and won – barely. "For starters, there isn't a thing you could do with that defective wand that would cause me fatal harm. Besides, I never said there was nothing more that I could do. I simply pointed out that the current path is a dead end."

"So, you have a suggestion?" Granger asked, looking annoyed with both her boyfriend and her potions professor simultaneously. No doubt it went against all her prudish obedience to Hex her professor, but there was no part of Snape that suspected those traits would keep her from doing just that were he to attack the Weasley brat.

"I suggest we find the Cambions," Snape replied, his voice thick with ancient reverence. For Lucius this endeavor had always been about sex and profit, but for Snape it was largely his curiosity for all things magical, though the pull of the Incubus was undeniable, he was never the professional whore that Lucius became. The draw he felt to the Cambion race was unmistakable and he wanted to learn everything he could about it. In hindsight, he realized it was a foolish idea to try to capture and harness a magical race that could be traced to Merlin's own blood, but he desperately wanted to do just that.

"That's just a legend," Minerva whispered, but she didn't sound very certain.

"It's not," Snape assured, "I can promise you that, and I know just the person to help us."

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Draco had never been in this building before, though he had visited Madame Scarlet's on a few occasions in the past. It was similar, as similar as it probably could have been while occupying a different Muggle building, and Draco wondered why they had moved at all. That answer came very quickly though, as Draco thought about his dying godfather bleeding out on the floor. Lucius clearly hoped the man was dead, but Draco had seen him weather a good deal of torture in the war. He was confident that Snape would recover.

But even if he didn't survive, with the capture of Harry Potter, Draco knew it would only be a matter of time before someone came to take his father down. He hoped he could get away with Harry before that happened. Instead of into the basement, where Draco had suspected his father would take them, Lucius led them upstairs and into his own private office. It was a mirror of the old one, right down to the raunchy painting on the mantle.

As Draco turned away from it, he saw that his father had already stripped Harry bare and had him on his knees facing away from them both. He looked down quickly, unable to watch his father defile his Mate. "Please don't do this, Father."

"What do you care?" Lucius snapped. "He's betrayed you, you said so yourself. He let Severus violate the tenuous relationship you had. He chose him over you. He deserves to be punished."

"Not like this," Draco whispered as his father removed his belt and popped it ominously in his hands. Draco had been feeling terrible about fetching his father as vengeance against Harry. He'd regretted it from the moment he saw the hungry look in his father's eyes when Draco stepped through the fireplace at Malfoy Manor with a tear stained face. He had planned to let his mother console him and to see if she knew anything about shielding and bonds, but Lucius had been waiting on the other end of the Floo instead and had shown enough compassion to get his son to spill his troubles.

"Strike him," Lucius ordered, holding out his thick leather belt to his son, who shook his head adamantly.

"No! I can't do that to him. I love him, Father," Draco admitted and cried out as the belt came sharply across his face instead.

"Insolent boy," Lucius growled. "Have I taught you nothing?"

Draco clutched a hand to his face and held back a sob as he felt a thin cut and a deep welt forming on his pale flesh. "Could you do this to Mother?" Draco demanded. He thought that countering his feelings with logic might do the task his emotions couldn't do before.

"I could if she betrayed me," Lucius assured him and Draco knew he was telling the truth. His father would see his wife there on her knees just as surely as Harry was there now.

He wished he could see his lover's face, wished he could tell the boy with his eyes how sorry he was for getting them into this mess. "I can't do that to Harry."

"Then I will, and my strikes will be far less tender," Lucius warned.

Draco bit into his bottom lip with indecision. As much as Harry had hurt him, he didn't wish to inflict pain upon his lover, but would it be worse for Harry if he refused now? He reached out with a trembling hand and took the belt from his father's hand, ignoring the smirk on the man's lips. He raised it up; ready to bring it down in a slow arch so as to cause the least damage and pain, but he couldn't do it. His hand fell to his side and the belt fell to the ground. "I can't do it," he whispered at last.

"If you disobey me, I will make Potter my own. He'll be the one I violate when the whim takes me." Lucius leaned in close to his son so that Draco could both look into his eyes and hear the man's words as clear as a bell. "I will bury my cock inside of him and ruin him for you and everyone else."

A choked and gasping sob stuck like a solid lump in his throat and Draco almost fell to his knees at the pain of being so torn between having to hurt Harry and wanting to save him from his father. Harry turned then and his red-ringed emerald gaze met Draco's directly. It felt like fire flamed through him and the sob finally broke loose. "Just do it," Harry ordered coldly.

"I can't," Draco cried, sniffling uncontrollably.

"This is what you wanted, Malfoy," Harry stated blandly. There was no love, no hate, and no emotion in between. It was as if something had sucked Harry's heart out and replaced it with dry cotton. "Punish me."

"I don't want to hurt you, Harry," Draco pleaded.

"That's all we'll ever do to one another, Malfoy," he replied in that same stolid tone.

"You heard the boy. He wants it, he knows he deserves it," Lucius goaded, a wicked smile on his face.

"Please don't make me," Draco sobbed.

"Hit me, Malfoy!" Harry ordered, his voice a sharp hiss. "I fucked Severus and I enjoyed it, punish me."

"No," Draco replied, but the belt was in his hand again and his entire arm twitched.

"I screamed for him, Malfoy. I forgot all about you when his cock was inside of me," Harry told him dispassionately. "You know you want to make me pay."

"I don't," Draco replied through gritted teeth.

"If you don't, I'll end up fucking your father too," Harry reminded him, making it sound like a lurid desire, but Draco could see what the boy wanted. He'd rather select his own punishment rather than be forced into a different one.

Draco brought the belt down on Harry's back with as little force as he could and still leave a mark. He knew his father well enough to know that Lucius would not be happy until Harry was marked.

"Again," Lucius ordered, his breath hitching with desire.

Draco reluctantly obeyed; closing his eyes against the violent flinch Harry gave at the contact. It was demanded that Draco bring the belt against Harry's back until it was a bloody mess. When Lucius had quieted his commands, Draco collapsed beside his Mate and tried to get Harry to look up and meet his gaze. "I love you, Harry. I'm so sorry," he whispered, but Harry only winced and pulled away from him as Lucius laughed wickedly.

"So easily broken," he mused.

Draco ignored his father and tried again to pull Harry into his arms, but the boy obstinately refused. "We're even now," he rasped, his eyes a terrible red from holding back his tears. "Bond or no, I want nothing more to do with you. Leave me alone."

Draco closed his eyes to stave off his own cries. If Harry had refrained from showing his pain while Draco beat him, than he could do the same. He sniffed and drew himself up to his full height, leaving Harry on the floor. He might be hurting, he might have lost the love of his life, his Mate, his destiny, but he was still a Malfoy. "As you like," he replied as his father smirked behind him.

"Come, my boy," Lucius sneered. "I have a room full of concubines who will fall over themselves to sate your hunger. You don't need Potter. He's unworthy of a Malfoy's attention."

He cast one last lingering glance down at the bloodied, naked boy on the ground, his raven hair in sweaty tendrils around his face but Harry refused to look up, so Draco steeled himself and gave his father a curt nod before following him out into the corridor.

---------------------------------------------

Author's Note: More explanations, more troubles...whatever will this pair do? Is it going to be poor Draco or poor Harry you're all screaming at me this time? lol


	16. Sect

**Author's Note: Many thanks to Laurel, who has been very patient with me through this process and apologies to all who have had to wait for this update. **

**Chapter 16 Sect**

Harry wanted to scream, or to cry or to take his anguish out in violent force against one of the many expensive looking objects in Lucius' office, but he was too exhausted to move. Apparating as far and as quickly as they had sapped all of Harry's magic reserves so that, even if he hadn't been stripped of his wand upon entering, he was very nearly defenseless. He could bite and kick and claw, but his body was too weary for even that at the moment.

His back was raw and burning, his eyes clouded with tears of fury that he refused to let fall down his cheeks. He was slumped over, still kneeling on the floor where Lucius had left him and he wished he could figure out a way out of this place, out of this mess. Dying at the hand of Voldemort would have been a preferable fate than this.

His pain was Malfoy's fault, and he didn't have to bother to distinguish between father and son. It appeared the boy was falling into step behind the man and that Harry was merely an obstacle in his way to further the Malfoy's fame and fortune.

Draco's face came unbidden to his mind, beautiful and slack with pleasure as he melted into Harry's touch, and he snarled, forcibly wiping the image from his thoughts, pressing his thumbs against his sockets until he saw only white. He'd meant every biting word he'd said to Draco, he never wanted to see him again, but unfortunately the beast roiling through him felt differently. The Incubus wanted to smother itself in Draco's scent, in his luscious hair, and melt into his alabaster flesh. Harry wanted his body and his kindness, but not his treachery, and he had quickly learned that one couldn't be separated from the other. It would hurt him less to deprive himself of the food the Incubus craved and allow himself to die rather than let himself fall for a boy who didn't even know what love truly was.

When the door clicked open, Harry refused to look up, assuming it was merely Lucius arriving to continue his torture. He could hear the heavy footfalls of someone drawing near and he braced himself for the imminent blow, but it never came. Instead, a wet, cooling sensation drifted over him as his back was mended and cleaned with a powerful spell. He rolled his shoulders back to test the effects and it felt perfect and unmarred once again.

"Not even a thank you?" Lucius' familiar voice drawled, but Harry shook his head.

"Why should I thank you for repairing what you broke?" he asked, still refusing to look up.

"I didn't inflict this pain on you, my son did," Lucius corrected.

"By your orders," Harry bit out.

"Don't fool yourself into thinking he didn't want to lash out at you," Lucius replied snidely.

"I haven't," Harry whispered. He'd seen the manic gleam in Draco's eyes in the Gryffindor common room; he'd witnessed the betrayal first hand. Only his own indiscretions and his affection for Draco had stilled his hand from killing Lucius on the spot. But now he regretted his mercy, regretted his blinding love for the boy who had put him here.

"Good," Lucius commented lightly. "I'm here to propose a reasonable offer that even a Gryffindor should be able to comprehend."

Harry ignored the insult and shook his head. "I'm done making deals with Malfoys." Though his tone remained calm and indifferent, the words were spat from his mouth so forcefully that he saw Lucius take a step back.

"If you'll hear me out, I think you'd find the arrangement most agreeable," Lucius pressed, making Harry sigh tiredly.

"I don't really have much of a choice," he pointed out and Lucius chuckled darkly.

"No, I suppose you don't. Still, I could give you some, I could offer you choices where my son and Severus refused to," he replied.

"Just spit it out," Harry barked. "All this dancing around is making me ill."

Harry couldn't see the blond's expression from his prone position on the floor but he could easily picture the affronted sneer he bore on that otherwise lovely face. Knowing that Draco would look like Lucius when he aged was certainly a pro in the list of 'why bother to date Draco Malfoy at all', but not a big enough pro to overshadow the very long list of cons.

"I propose a partnership," Lucius said at last. "I find you the clients, provide you with room and board, and you supply the services. We can split the take fifty-fifty," Lucius suggested.

"What would I do with all that money if I'm a prisoner?" Harry asked. "I couldn't spend it, I couldn't use it to go out with my friends, or buy my lover a nice gift because I wouldn't be allowed those things either."

"I could be your lover," Lucius suggested and Harry laughed. "Is that really so preposterous?"

"You're old," Harry quipped, knowing his words would strike true to the man's vanity.

"I'm not that much older than Severus," he defended.

"_And_ you're Draco's father. If I gave _him_ up, what makes you think I'd want _you_?" Harry added.

A hand of long, pale fingers grabbed Harry's jaw and yanked his face up to meet a pair of gray, smoldering eyes just like Draco's, and for a moment, Harry felt the Incubus stir, but it settled when Harry's eyes took in the rest of the features. It was true, he was almost a carbon copy of his son, but Draco was softer somehow, he seemed to glow from somewhere within, and Lucius lacked those essential pulls.

Those lips crashed into his, forceful and unyielding, and Harry didn't fight it, but he didn't give himself over to it either. He felt the Incubus fill his veins, taking hold of him, but Harry subdued it with images of Draco. His face, his body, his voice, anything Harry could steal from his thoughts he threw at the Incubus until it retreated back into his core.

When Lucius pulled away he looked both indignant and curious all at once. "I've never met anyone so young who was already so disciplined."

"I don't want you," Harry stated blandly. "You could force me of course, but raping an Incubus is not the same as having one give themselves to you freely." He didn't actually know this for sure of course, but he seemed to have made a good guess because Lucius face twisted slightly before nodding.

"I'll win you then," he announced. "Whatever it takes, I'll make you want me."

"Let me go," Harry suggested. "You'd earn my respect if you let us all go right now."

Lucius chuckled and shook his head. "Very clever, but I'm afraid I couldn't possibly do that. The Cambions are my income, my freedom, my slaves. They belong to me."

"They're people," Harry spat. "They don't _belong_ to anyone."

"That's where you're wrong, Potter. They owe their loyalty to me. I've taken them in, given them shelter and love. They'd be whores on the street without my generosity and guidance."

"You really believe that, don't you? What about their Mates? They'll die without them, you know?" Harry demanded.

"You can't possibly believe that since you have banished your own Mate from your presence," Malfoy replied, but Harry didn't miss the lingering glance Lucius had cast up to the painting above his fireplace. "You would have sealed his fate and your own with that edict."

"Perhaps I would rather die than live a miserable life," Harry whispered.

"And my son? Do you care at all what he wants?" Lucius prodded.

"Of course I do," Harry hissed.

"But his happiness is not more important than your own?"

"Are you trying to convince me to take him back into my bed? Because I thought you were campaigning that position for yourself," Harry scoffed so that he didn't have to acknowledge Lucius' words. His mind was so muddled, and his life so drastically altered by recent events he didn't know what to say. Part of him loved Draco, part of him hated Draco and then there was always that annoyingly Gryffindor part of his psyche that would never allow someone to be harmed if he could prevent it. Would he eventually give in and allow Draco to take what he wanted from him? Perhaps. It wouldn't be the first time he let someone he cared about trample over him, but he would avoid it if he could. Even if he couldn't avoid the fate itself, he could avoid thinking about it for the moment.

"You could take us all," Lucius suggested and Harry's body warmed considerably at the thought of having a Malfoy on each arm. He could already imagine the pleasure of two blond heads with two sets of gray eyes watching him, four milky legs entangled with his, and four pale hands with twenty long fingers to touch him everywhere at once. Two mouths, two cock, two arses; the image made him shudder and the Incubus stirred once more.

He shook his head, trying to dissipate the intoxicating thoughts from his mind. "I'm not bound to you, it wouldn't be the same as what I've done with Draco and Snape. I love them. I have no love for you."

"You had no love for either of them when they first seduced you," Lucius pointed out.

"I just want a normal life. I want a lover that I don't have to share," Harry sighed, running his hands haphazardly through his hair as he realized the innate truth in his words.

"You could have had all that with Draco, but you turned him away. I don't think that a normal life is what you want at all. I think you'd get bored," Lucius challenged, his eyes sparkling and brilliant.

"Draco wouldn't share with you," Harry leveraged, but Lucius smirked wickedly, his eyes glittering with triumph.

"Leave him to me," the man chimed, and he left Harry alone in the office once more.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"It's been a long time, Severus," Narcissa noted from the partially open doorway as she surveyed the gathered crowd outside her entry. It was purposeful to only greet Severus, a calculated dismissal of the rest of his motley crew.

"That is has, Cissy," Severus admitted with a half-bow.

"I think the last time you were at the manor was back when you were having an affair with my husband," she added, as if commenting on the quality of her tea.

Minerva and Ron shot the man a scandalous look while Hermione merely seemed intrigued by this new development, no doubt trying to merge what she knew of both men with this enticing new information. While Snape stammered, trying to find his words again, Hermione stepped forward and boldly offered her hand to the Lady Malfoy. "Hermione Granger, Madam. I'm a friend of Draco's."

"I thought you were Harry's little know-it-all?" she sneered, but Hermione pressed forward without a beat and glared the woman down, speaking finally in a huffed tone that indicated how little she thought of the Malfoy matriarch.

"I'm Harry's friend as well, but now that the two are Mated, it seems my friendship extends to both. The thing is, Mrs. Malfoy, Lucius has captured Harry," she blurted at last, her face breaking into a satisfied smile as Narcissa's eyes widened.

"Draco helped him," Ron added venomously. He loathed Draco more than ever for having tricked them all into thinking he was in love with their friend and then handing Harry over to his father.

"That's very unlike my son," she whispered, but opened the door wide enough to allow them all entry. "He hates his father."

"That's terrible," Minerva scoffed with near sincerity, she couldn't imagine being part of such a twisted family dynamic, but Narcissa narrowed her eyes and gave the woman a very indulgent smile.

"Don't pretend you don't hate Lucius as well. He's so easy to despise. He doesn't even have to work very hard at it," she replied as she led them all into a sunroom at the back of the manor. Snape was feeling uneasy, and took a spot furthest away from Narcissa, though he knew that would do little good if the woman chose to Hex him. Ron played it safe and sat between Hermione and Minerva, not wanting to be closer to either of the haughty Slytherins than he could help.

"Draco told me there was trouble with the bonding. I took that to mean that it didn't take. Was I mistaken?" Narcissa asked.

"It took. In fact, it took too well," Hermione muttered.

"What do you mean?"

Even Minerva was paying close attention as Hermione leaned forward and addressed Lady Malfoy to explain about the incantation, including how Snape got entangled in its sticky web. Snape's face paled as he remembered the night he had captured both boys, what he was willing to do to them to have his desires quenched, and it made him physically ill. With his recent bonding, he felt both boys as if they were an extension of his own being. There had to be something he could do here, some way he could atone for his disgraceful behavior.

"We're working on a spell or potion to counter the bond, but we've been unsuccessful so far," she complained, almost chastising herself as she did.

"Hmm," Narcissa mused, tapping her perfectly manicured nails lightly against her lips. "I've never heard of a way to break the bond between Mates, but there must be some way. I certainly wouldn't want my son to remain unwillingly bound to you, Severus."

"I'm sure with enough time I can devise a potion that might counter the effects," Severus added, ignoring Narcissa's jibe. "I brought everyone here though so that you might tell them about the Cambions, and if they might be of some use to our cause."

"I know all about the Cambions," Hermione interrupted. "That's what Harry and Draco are."

"That's true, but they are so much more than that," Narcissa chastised her for speaking out of turn. "They are a secret group constructed by Merlin himself that governs our kind. Even those of us who are full blooded are bound by their rules and justice."

"The group is called by this name, but it consists of full Incubi and Succubi, half-bloods, like Potter and Draco, and even wizards who possess no Incubus blood at all and simply lend their strength to the Cambion's cause," Severus added, ignoring Narcissa's scowl.

"So it is rumored. Personally I've never met someone of the secret sect. One really shouldn't have to, and if they do, there is probably a deadly reason behind it," she quipped.

"So, they are like your police," Hermione reasoned. "They make sure your kind doesn't take advantage of ours."

"You listen to me, little girl," Narcissa growled, her countenance switching instantly to that of a rabid beast. "You know nothing of our kind and our ways. You live a precious little life with very little troubles. If you were as clever as they say you are, you would keep your mouth shut."

"I'll do whatever it takes to save Harry," Hermione countered, not looking the least bit frightened.

"Then you'll do well to find this man," she replied, conjuring a card from thin air. "He works for the Ministry, but he knows how to contact the Cambions. Supposedly," she added indifferently with a bland wave of her hand, as if the previous fire in her eyes had been a dream.

"And you? Are you just going to sit back and let your husband kill your son and our friend?" Hermione insisted, heedless of McGonagall's stern glance.

"I will do my own searching for the boys, though I care little for Potter. If Draco wishes to leave him, he'll be left behind," she told them, and they could all sense her honesty even as they hated it. "I do what is best for my family."

"Harry's his Mate!" Hermione persisted, but Narcissa shook her head.

"It matters not to me if it matters not to Draco." The finality in her voice rung cold and true and it made Ron shudder. The four guests left without another word, glad to at least have a lead if they were to get no other assistance from the cold, deadly woman.

--------------------------------------

There was only one room that Lucius rarely entered, and that was where he'd sent Draco earlier that day as part of his punishment for deceiving him for weeks. It was not as barren as the attic room he'd killed Abby in, or as lavish as any of the dungeon rooms used by his clientele, but it was oppressive just the same.

Gray like the Malfoys' eyes and furnished only with a rickety bed, dingy toilet and rusted sink, the room seemed to exude poison into the air for the length of time a person could remain there without slipping into madness. Draco was chained to the bed, stripped of all his clothing, and he was staring uselessly into a mirror on the far wall. That mirror had a twin in Lucius' office, just like every other room, and he could use it to spy on his guests and slaves, or cast the spell the other way so that others would be forced to watch whatever pleased him as entertainment. Sometimes he used it as a reward, giving the Cambion horde downstairs lusty video of the clientele's activities. It seemed to placate them in a way Lucius could relate to. They enjoyed having the power to observe without being suspected of it.

He also used it as punishment, something his son would learn of very soon.

"He's agreed to bed me," Lucius said upon entering the room, his gaze flitting across his son's body only briefly before casting his eyes to the mirror.

"Liar," Draco hissed, leaping up to his feet, even though the pain from the shackles on his wrists was considerable with such a sharp movement. "He won't ever touch you."

"Ah, but in this you're wrong, Draco. He's agreed to be my lover on the condition that you're there too." Lucius hadn't worked out all the technicalities, but he'd seen the lusty glaze in Potter's eyes at the very mention of bedding them both.

The smug sneer Draco leveled on him was expected, though Lucius felt a twinge of regret for what he would be forced into by his son's petulance. Draco hadn't turned out like he'd hoped, there was too much of his mother in him.

"Well, it seems we're at an impasse then, Father, for I will not debase myself in such a way. If Potter wants us both, he'll have to go on wanting," Draco bit out.

"I was afraid you'd say that," Lucius drawled and lifted his wand, aiming it at Draco's sternum.

The boy panicked, his eyes blazing with both defiance and fear, though his body didn't betray him as he puffed out his chest and waited for the impact. He still needed some training, but Lucius felt a swell of pride to see how well Draco had learned at least some of the lessons Lucius had fought to teach him. "So, you plan to kill me for disagreeing with you?"

"Not disagreeing, no," Lucius replied. "You've done so much more than that. You've squashed your promise in the reckless way you pursued Potter. One as young as yourself couldn't possibly compete with me. But I don't plan to murder you either, that would be such a waste at this point, when you're so close to meeting my expectations."

"Then what?" Draco asked, confusion tinting his icy gaze.

"I simply have to make you more pliable to my will," Lucius stated blandly, and Draco had but a moment to register the words and try to scream, or duck, or fight back in some way, before the bright white light of the spell crashed into his chest.

"_Imperio!_" Lucius shouted and Draco slumped, screaming his despair somewhere in the back of his mind that his own father had actually used an unforgivable against him. In that moment he would have preferred the death he initially thought would be dealt to him, rather that this state where Lucius could us him however he liked. As Lucius led his body, stiff with mechanical steps, back to his office for Harry's pleasure, Draco wondered if his father would ever allow him free will again or if he'd be the man's slave forever.

-----------------------------------

Author's Note: Well, sorry for the delay in this chapter. I've been fighting off Lucius, trying to keep his grubby paws off of my Harry, but alas, he seems to have won the battle, for now. Expect more frequent updates from this chapter on. I've married my outline together with this excerpt, so I shouldn't have any more quarrels with the characters after this.


	17. Grave Offence

Author's Note: Many thanks to Deb and Laurel for their work on this chapter. I know it's been ages since I've updated this story, and there isn't a lot left to write on it now. (maybe 3 chapters or so) So, hopefully the next update won't take as long. Thanks to all who have reviewed so far. Hugs and Squishes.

Chapter 17 Grave Offence

"Thank you so much for meeting with me, Mr. Thist," Hermione greeted, extending her hand out to shake. She'd grown weary of listening to her professors bicker amongst themselves and of Ron's reluctance to be around any of them since their meeting with Lady Malfoyand decided to schedule an appointment with the man Narcissa had recommended they speak to on her own.

"To what do I owe this pleasure?" he asked. "It's not everyday one is summoned by the best friend of the Boy-Who-Lived."

Thist was a wiry man but his face was handsome in an unconventional way. It was peculiar, because she certainly wouldn't have guessed this man was a Cambion like Harry. He certainly didn't have any besotted Ministry officials knocking down his door, or letters professing lusty desire littering his desk, but then perhaps he wasn't a true Cambion at all. Lady Malfoy had only said he could help them track down the group of Cambions, not that he was part of it in any official capacity.

"I'm not the best at dropping hints, Sir, so I hope that you'll pardon my bluntness," she began. The man nodded, his thick brown hair falling slightly with the movement. "I'd like to meet with the Cambions."

If she had been expecting shock, she was sorely disappointed. The man gazed at her placidly and pursed his lips. "I'm afraid I'm not sure what you're referring to."

Hermione produced the card she'd been given and slid it across the desk. "Narcissa Malfoy assured me that you do."

He glanced at it briefly and then leveled his gaze back on Hermione, who patiently waited for him to stop this game and get down to business. "Forgive me, but what business could you possibly have with a group like that?"

"Well, it's personal," she admitted, but she didn't think the man was foolish enough to give her everything she wanted without a little bait, "and I'm afraid it involves Harry. He's been taken, you see."

"By the Cambions? That's impossible," he started, looking borderline outraged at the very notion of it.

"No, Sir. He's been captured by people who wish to exploit the Cambions for financial gain," she corrected.

Thist leaned back in his chair and whistled long and low. "Harry Potter," he whispered, more to himself than his guest. "One of us?"

"Well, _they_ think so anyhow," Hermione said, quick to leave the subject unconfirmed. Still, it was interesting to learn that this man was, in fact, a true Cambion. Perhaps he could be of more help than simply introducing her to the group leaders.

"I've heard rumors," he continued, still talking to the air, "of a brothel housing only our kind as slaves, but I thought it was an urban legend. It seemed like something of nightmares and cautionary tales."

"I assure you, it's not," Hermione said. "I have a good deal of information and a vested interest in having the entire scene dismantled, but I need help."

For a moment Thist looked positively hungry for that information before he narrowed his eyes and leaned forward, his elbows pressed heavily into the desk's surface. "How do I know you're not just making all of this up?"

"I suppose you don't," Hermione said. "I can only offer my word. Harry is in danger and probably in pain and I can't suffer with that knowledge much longer. I need to do something to help him and I think you might be my only chance."

The man stared at her for a long time, seemingly studying her every feature before nodding once curtly. He swept the card from the desk and scribbled an address on the reverse side before handing it back to her. "Be at this address at half past seven tonight," he instructed, "and come alone."

"I have a few companions I'd like to-"

"Come. Alone," he repeated in a tone so stern, Hermione didn't dare argue again.

"Very well," she huffed. "Thank you for your time, Mr. Thist. I hope this works out beneficially for all of us."

"If what you're saying is true, Miss Granger, I assure you that the offenders in question will burn in the brightest of fires before we are done," he replied, his voice low and suddenly quite terrifying. She almost wished she hadn't agreed to meet with the group sans backup. She knew better than to question him however, and, in the end, wasn't that what she wanted? For Lucius Malfoy to die a long and excruciating death for what he was likely doing to her friend?

It most certainly was.

So she bowed and left the man's office as quickly as her legs would carry her, biding her time until her meeting that evening.

* * *

Draco was trembling. He was sure of it. He figured that regardless of the fact that his father was controlling everything he did with the Imperius curse, that some bit of his internal struggle had to be getting through. It just had to be.

As Lucius opened the door ahead of him, ushering Draco through to the office that held a kneeling Harry Potter, his entire body began to convulse and protest. He couldn't do this. He couldn't assist his father in his twisted mission to bed his mate. It was sick and aberrant and wrong. "Harry," he whispered, causing the boy to turn and meet his gaze.

Harry looked worn and distressed. He'd obviously been fighting off the Incubus buried within his veins, but it was also obvious that he was losing. A tremor ran down Draco's spine as he took in the disheveled state of the man he loved, wondering only if Harry could see the real Draco buried deep inside the puppet Lucius had created.

"Malfoy," Harry replied blandly, only a hint of the lust stirring within him sneaking through. "Other Malfoy," he added, sneering up at Lucius. "It's uncanny how similar you are when side-by-side," he added, and Draco knew it was no compliment.

"And think of how doubly satisfied you'll be when pressed between us both," Lucius purred, but neither the tone nor words did anything to soften Harry's expression.

"I'm honestly surprised I was invited," Draco drawled. "Clearly any Malfoy will do to sate your thirst."

Draco felt a tug on his consciousness, ordering his silence, and his mouth clamped shut so fast his teeth ached. He tried to shoot a glare back at his father, but Lucius wouldn't allow any movement at all.

Harry winced and looked away, staring hard at the ground. "It doesn't matter. I've changed my mind," he replied gruffly. "The Incubus is manageable without either of you."

Lucius stalked forward, ignoring Draco for the moment and grabbed a thick handful of Harry's curls. He yanked Harry's head up to face him, a feral glint in his eyes, before leaning down and capturing the boy's mouth. "You will not take this away from me when it's so close," he snarled after pulling away from Harry's bruised lips. "Do you hear me?"

"So, you've decided on rape then?" Harry asked, ignoring the call of the beast working its way to the surface.

"If I must," Lucius growled. "Although, I'd rather you be willing."

"One can't always get what one wants," Harry spat through gritted teeth. "Get it over with then."

Lucius narrowed his eyes and, looking positively evil, stood up and stalked back over to his son. "Perhaps you would be more agreeable if I provided a show first."

"What are you on about?" Harry asked, his eyes traveling the trail Lucius made across Draco's jaw.

"You might think twice about resisting if I demonstrated just how _cruel_ I am capable of being," he answered, tearing at Draco's collar. Draco, for his part, was screaming, cursing and flailing – although none of that could be observed by Harry. To Harry, he just looked complacent and pliable in his father's hands.

"You wouldn't," Harry scoffed. "He's your blood."

"_Was_ my blood," Lucius corrected. "He's nothing to me now but another whore."

Harry swallowed, seeming to sense the truth in Lucius' words. "Draco," he said, turning to the younger blond. "What do you say to all of this?"

Draco fought his father's influence for as long as he could, trying to swallow back the words that wanted desperately to escape his lips. "I am willing," he said at last, screaming the untruth of the statement silently in his mind with a desperate hope that Harry might somehow hear him.

"You'll just let your father use you like that?" Harry hissed, getting to his feet for the first time since he arrived in Lucius' office – a room that seemed to practically ooze evil and debauchery through the wallpaper patterns.

"Who is to say he won't enjoy it?" Lucius chortled. "Perhaps my Draco likes abuse."

"You're wrong," Harry hissed, stalking forward. "I know what he likes, I know his body and I know-" Harry gasped, wanting to shake off the knowledge that came to him, but he was unable. "I know him. He's mine as I am his."

Lucius turned his lips up in disgust and rolled his eyes. "Very touching, but I think you'll find you know very little about Draco. You want your father to fuck you, don't you, son?"

Draco nodded, sobbing inside.

"Say it aloud, my boy. Tell our Harry how much you _crave_ your father's cock," he whispered.

Draco's lips trembled but there was nothing he could do to stop the onslaught of pain attacking him from every direction. "I want it. I need it," he said at last, making Harry turn away in disgust.

"Get down on your knees, Draco," he ordered, and the lithe blond fell. Lucius unbuckled his trousers with the speed of a professional and let them fall, revealing a protruding and slightly crooked cock. Harry wasn't the least bit impressed. "Now, Son," he began, carefully enunciating the title to draw out the very wrongness of it, "suck," he ordered.

* * *

A potion seemed relatively useless at this juncture, but Snape wasn't sure what other assistance he could provide given that his well of information about Madame Scarlet's had all but dried up. Various tomes filled with recipes and ingredient lists sprawled in front of him, taking up every last inch of available table space. He scanned page after page, never finding anything that might help him track Lucius or the boys.

If only he had a clipping of hair or a drop of blood, then he could perhaps create a scrying potion for them, but Lucius was a clever man. He'd likely made the new club unplottable and masked his magical signature in some way. Surely whatever precautions he'd used on himself he would have used on his son and Harry, but anything was worth trying at the moment. So, when he finished sifting through the potions from twenty different volumes, Snape left his quarters in search of personal articles from both Harry and Draco's rooms.

Locating Draco's DNA was easy; he found a brush in the Slytherin bathroom with several strands of his flaxen hair. Finding something of Harry's was much more difficult as his dorm was still in shambles from the fight the evening before. After sifting through the wreckage and painful memories it held, eventually he was able to find a set of robes with a fair amount of the Gryffindor's blood dried into the fibers. It wasn't ideal, but it would do in a pinch, and this situation most certainly qualified as a pinch.

Any moment now he assumed McGonagall would rain down on him like an angry Hippogriff, tearing him limb from limb for what he'd done. He deserved it, he knew that, but it didn't stop him from feeling the need to rush at his task. He could bear a sentence in Azkaban if he knew that Harry was safe.

Even knowing that his feelings for the bratty Gryffindor were a farce, Snape couldn't seem to shake the emotions their bond had created within him. He hoped, desperately so, that the bond would be able to help him when it came to locating Harry. He kept the tunnel between them wide open in case Harry had the energy or forethought to call out to him; although considering his faulty skills in protecting the boy before, he seriously doubted Harry would come to him for help again.

His task was a long shot, but it kept him busy. Besides, he knew it would be better that he found the boys and proved himself worthy instead of waiting for help to come to them like the others. It seemed Minerva, Weasley and Granger were content to rely on this fabled group of vigilante Cambions, but Snape couldn't sit around and twiddle his thumbs. The bonds had bee thoroughly sealed in the minds of the two teens, so with little hope of utilizing it to locate them, Severus had decided to do what he did best. He would make his scrying potion, he would try to fight a path through Lucius' defenses, and he would find out where the boys had been imprisoned.

* * *

Hermione shivered as if it were below freezing outside when, in fact, it was very mild. She knew she should have told someone where she was going. Merlin knew that Ron would have a fit if she didn't turn up for breakfast in the morning, but she couldn't let this chance pass her by. She walked carefully down the street, watching the numbers on the letterboxes decrease as she looked for Eighteen Mulberry Lane. The house, once she'd found it, was in good repair, but felt ominous still simply because she knew what she'd find inside.

Her mind had spun images of walking in on orgies and debauchery the moment she would open the door, even though she _mostly_ knew that was nonsense. Tentatively she checked her watch, noted her promptness and then knocked on the door, hoping the person who answered would be fully dressed.

They were of course and she felt a little silly that she'd expected otherwise; she needn't have worried about it at all. It was a woman who opened the door, smiling patiently down at Hermione as she squirmed on the stoop. "I'm Herm-"

"I know who you are, Child. Come in," she said and stepped aside so that Hermione could enter.

She'd been expecting a dozen people at most, but the party that met her in the drawing room of the old manor home was something else entirely. At a glance, Hermione guessed there were at least fifty people cramped together in the tight space - some sitting, some standing and some milling about with drinks in hand. None of them were nude or entered into debauched acts. In fact, had Hermione not known better, she could have easily assumed this was some mundane book club instead of a group of carnal-craving Incubi.

"Miss Granger," greeted the man she'd met earlier that day. Mr. Thist shook her hand and offered her a vacant chair in the center of the melee; she took it, wary of the many pairs of eyes now glued to her face.

"I'm here for your help," she began, addressing the crowd as a whole. She decided to go about her request in the same manner she had with her one-on-one conversation with Thist - bluntly. "My friend, and the savior of the Wizarding World, Harry Potter, has been abducted by a cruel man."

"What does this have to do with us?" someone interrupted from the back and Hermione fought not to scowl at them.

"Harry is an Incubi," she said and waited for the gasps and murmurs to suppress before she continued. "He's a Cambion rather since he's not full blood, and the man who took him is trying to rent him out to the highest bidder. He's been doing this for quite some time apparently," she explained.

"And you know who the abductor is?" Hermione tried to search out the person who posed the question, but she couldn't put a face to the voice.

"I do."

"Then why do you need our help?" another voice asked. "Why not just go to the authorities? Kidnapping the Boy-Who-Lived would carry an Azkaban sentence on its own without bringing up the boy's condition."

"True," she sighed, "but his accomplice has been converted to our cause, and he's looked far and wide for the perpetrator and found no sign of him. I fear the Ministry will take too long. If someone who has intimate knowledge of the scheme cannot locate him, I don't see how the Ministry can hope to."

There was a murmur of agreement through the crowd. "Who is this man?"

"Lucius Malfoy," she said and again the group burst into dissent. "He's running a brothel that exploits your kind," she added, trying to make her voice louder than the crowd. "He's taken advantage of your…talents…for years now. He's even caused the death of several Cambion."

At that they grew silent, no longer protesting that they knew Lucius Malfoy and as foul as he was, they couldn't believe he was capable of such atrocious behavior. Some had even commented on Narcissa's status as a full blooded Succubus and how they couldn't imagine a man exploiting the blood of their own wife. "How do you know all of this?" someone asked. It was a tall man, and he stepped forward with proud shoulders and a strong square jaw. Beautiful was too small a word to describe him. "Why should we believe the word of a little girl?"

"I'm of age, Sir," she replied haughtily, rising to her feet. Stunning or no, she would not let the man intimidate her. "I have been informed by Lucius Malfoy's accomplice, they have been working together in this scheme for some years now."

"Causing the death of a Cambion is a grave accusation, Miss Granger. Are you quite certain? Do you know how they died? Can you provide us with the name of this accomplice?" Thist asked.

Hermione shook her head. She wasn't willing to offer up the head of her Potions Master, as much as she despised him. Besides, she knew McGonagall wouldn't spare Snape from prison considering what he'd done; he will pay for his crimes. The Professor was merely biding her time and waiting to see how much use he could be in recovering Harry, an action Hermione thoroughly agreed with.

"He told me that they died because they were denied their Mates," she whispered to the deathly silent crowd. For long moments the uncommonly attractive group stared at Hermione, and then began to whisper amongst themselves.

"She tells the truth," came a voice from behind her. Hermione whipped around to face Narcissa Malfoy in all her queenly blonde glory. "You've all heard the whispers about Madame Scarlet's and been too afraid to act. I myself can be accused of cowardice. Deep down I knew what my husband was up to, I knew he had our blood on his hands and yet I did nothing. I feared what the controversy would do to my son, but now Lucius has gone too far. He's taken my Draco, he's taken Draco's Mate, Harry Potter, and he's trying to drive a permanent wedge between them. I will no longer stand by like a scared sheep. Who will stand with me against these offences?"

Her tone was commanding and everyone in the room paused to take note of her and hear her words. Eventually people started stepping forward. A few members of the crowd left, shaking their heads and muttering about obligations and this being just too messy, but the others stayed and agreed to help find Harry and Draco and bring Lucius to justice.

Hermione smiled; pleased to find that she'd gotten her way with a little persuasion from a woman who claimed she didn't care one way or the other. Hermione had suspected those words had been false and it was always nice to be right.

Author's Note: Well, I haven't left you with much of an end cliffhanger, but how did you like that internal one?


	18. The Power to Change

Author's Note: Many thanks to Deb and Laurel for their beta work on this story and thanks to my loyal readers for your patience as I work this story out. I think this is my favorite chapter so far, and the story is almost over now. One, maybe two chapters left at most.

Chapter 18 The Power to Change

Harry's heart jerked as he watched Draco fall to his knees in front of his father, his lips parted tentatively as he waited for Lucius to fill that precious mouth. Green eyes flicked back and forth between the older blond's cock and the younger blond's mouth, wondering if this was really going to happen. Why hadn't Draco ever mentioned this before? The way it sounded, sex between the two men was a regular occurrence, which was something Harry just couldn't seem to wrap his mind around, no matter how turned on the Incubus was at the sight before him.

Part of him had to admit; the image of the nearly identical wizards about to enter into forbidden territory was rather erotic, no matter how wrong it was. Still, it made Harry wonder what else Draco had been hiding from him during their courtship.

In a moment of sheer Gryffindor determination, Harry vowed to find out.

Draco's tongue snaked out and caressed the hard flesh of his father's prick, leaving a trail of shiny saliva in its wake. Lucius threw his head back at the heady touch, thrusting forward slightly and driving himself deeper into Draco's hot mouth. At the same time Harry let the walls around his mind fall, allowing the Incubus to feel the lust boiling through the room and giving Harry access to reach forward and coax away the walls Draco had erected.

They came crumbling down with little effort, as if merely waiting for a single graze of Harry's soul. However, as it happened, Harry did more than graze. He had attempted to punch forward through Draco's protective barrier, expecting to find resistance where there was none. The movement sent Harry toppling forward into Draco's mind, surrounded by and covered in his thoughts and feelings. What he found left him astonished and momentarily numb.

A thick moan flew from Lucius' lips as he commanded Draco take the rest of him, suck him faster, harder, and, like a good Imperiused servant, Draco obeyed. He was nearly choking on Lucius' length, the speed of his rocking back and forth making his jaw ache. Still, it didn't seem to be enough for the elder Malfoy, for his own thrusts merely sped up until he was verily fucking his son's mouth, hitting the back of his throat with each pounding movement.

"Suck, Draco! Yes!" Lucius screamed. "I knew you were good for something."

At those words, Harry lost it. Pulling free from Draco's mind, Harry shook his head, trying to cast off the images he'd seen and he leaned up and captured Lucius' mouth with his own. He could feel the man groaning around his tongue, approval evident in the sound. Draco's movements slowed beneath them until he backed off completely, Lucius' cock falling from his mouth with a wet plop.

Meanwhile, Harry continued his assault, his teeth grazing Lucius' lips as he let his Incubus feed on the sex Lucius exuded from every pore. His fingers trailed down to graze the now slippery erection before gripping it almost painfully and stroking. Malfoy shuddered in his grasp, his body trying to produce noises that his occupied mouth wouldn't allow, and Harry swallowed it all down, every last gasp and moan until he was full.

And then he pulled back, his lips only a hair's breadth away, and whispered his own commands against Lucius' mouth. "Come for me, Lucius. Come for me now." And Lucius did; he came fast and hard and covered Harry's hand and hip with the sticky fluid.

"I knew it," Lucius rasped as he convulsed against Harry's body. "I knew you would be mine."

"Am I?" Harry asked, his face impassive and his tone strong and unaffected. "Because the way I see it," he noted, glancing down at the still twitching appendage in his hand, "it's _you_ who belongs to _me_."

Malfoy swallowed, seeming to only realize his predicament that very moment. "As you wish, Harry," he allowed. "I could be content with that."

"Well then, as your owner," Harry purred, running the flat of his tongue from Lucius' lips to the shell of his ear, "I should be able to do as I like with you, yes?"

It was a question, but Harry already knew the answer before he spoke the words. Still, Lucius seemed hesitant. Harry's tongue made quick work of dispatching any reluctance, however, as he caressed Malfoy's earlobe, sucking it into the wetness of his mouth and nibbling gently.

"Yes," Lucius rasped at last, almost reverent in his tone. "Whatever you want, Harry. Anything. Everything. Just ask."

"Good," Harry whispered like a lover and brought both hands to cup Lucius' jaw, tilting his face as if he wanted to deepen a kiss. "Then what I want is for you to die."

Lucius sighed, as if Harry had bent over and exposed his readied hole for him to plunder, and then his eyes widened as pain laced through his body, starting at the spot where Harry clutched his face firmly within his strong hands. "I- I don't understand," Lucius stammered. "You were so-"

"Pliant? Yielding? Obedient? Those should have been your first clues that something was wrong, Lucius," Harry chastised, his voice humorless. "Apparently you're too used to your poor Imperiused son to know when you're being fooled."

A guttural snarl emanated from Lucius' lips, but he was unable to form words, Harry had already taken that ability by slowly crushing his throat from the inside. In fact, all of Lucius' muscles seemed to be collapsing under Harry's touch and it seemed the only reason Lucius remained upright was because Harry willed it so.

"I needed your lust to recharge my magic," Harry explained. "So I devoured it and now I'll devour you, but not in a manner you're likely to enjoy."

"Harry," a voice sounded from behind him, soft and pleading, but Harry ignored his Mate and pressed forward, trailing one of his hands along the crumbling bones of Lucius' arm.

"How could you do that to Draco? How could any part of your twisted mind think it was okay to Imperius him and then attempt to fuck him?" Harry demanded, even though he knew he would get no answers now. Perhaps he should have started with Lucius' toes and worked his way slowly up instead? He'd remember that for the next person who harmed his lover. "The fact that I didn't stop you sooner will always haunt me," Harry hissed.

"Please, Harry," Draco called again from behind him, but Harry only laughed as he felt Lucius' ribcage give way like dust under his hand. Wishing to enjoy taking down the tyrant, he paused and stared at the pale chest before him, his nostrils flaring as he studied the older Malfoy.

"Such a fragile thing, the human heart," Harry murmured to himself, flitting his fingertips lightly over the beating instrument, fluttering wildly beneath the taut skin. "With just a touch I could stop it." With his words, Harry pressed two fingers against Lucius' chest and watched as light faded from his eyes. "Or, with that same touch, I could restart it like a Muggle engine."

Again, Harry pressed his fingers to Lucius' heart and the man's eyes flared wide, a choked scream on his lips. "Unpleasant, isn't it?" Harry asked. "Having your life in someone else's hands."

Lucius gave a weak nod and Harry let go, letting the crippled body fall to the floor.

"Harry," cried the increasingly persistent voice of his Mate, the sound echoing through his mind and his ears all at once.

"Draco, I refuse to spare him again," Harry told him without turning around. "I showed mercy once, and he repaid me by trying to spoil you."

"Has he?" Draco asked, his voice breathy and frightened. "Have I been spoiled for you?"

Harry turned then and took in the vulnerable nakedness of his lover, his friend, his Mate and didn't find it sexy or erotic. The Incubus was long burrowed inside of him and something else had hold of him now. Wild magic, raw and all-powerful, gripped Harry's skin in every place and made no room for his beast. Harry could see Draco clearly now, without the intoxicated gaze the Incubus offered and without the schoolboy hatred that clouded his mind before that.

What Harry saw was a tired, frightened boy and Harry went to him, wrapping his arms around the blond and clutching him close. "You're my Mate, Draco," he whispered softly, rocking the Slytherin in his arms. "Nothing could ever ruin you in my eyes."

A shuddering sob escaped Draco's lips before they crashed into Harry's. The kiss was feral – hurt and comfort spun together in a golden ball that gave weight and flavor to Harry's tongue. He was in love with this boy, and he didn't need to know anything else. Not now, perhaps not ever.

* * *

Severus ran as fast as his legs would carry him, stopping only when he reached the sentient gargoyle of the Headmistress' office. A shouted password and spiraling staircase later and he was standing before a glowering McGonagall and three others – Granger, Weasley and Narcissa Malfoy.

"I assume your bursting in uninvited has some sort of reasoning behind it, Severus?" McGonagall chimed, looking none to pleased.

"I've found them!"

Granger and Narcissa finally gave him their full attention and nearly shouted 'What?!' in the exact same moment.

"I've found them," he repeated. "Harry and Draco. I was hoping that I could create a successful scrying spell for the boys-"

"And it worked?" Minerva asked hopefully.

"Well, no, not as such," Severus admitted somewhat begrudgingly. He would have liked for his potion skill to accept all the credit, but it unfortunately had little to do with that. "The bonds opened up a moment ago," he explained. "I can feel them as if they are in the room with us now. They are open so wide, Minerva, it's a tremendous feeling."

Minerva narrowed her eyes and stood. "Can you tell where they are? Are they hurt?"

"They seem fine, better than fine," Severus assured. "I can feel Harry's love and warmth cascading over me like a blanket."

"Perhaps it's some sort of trick," Granger warned. "Lucius might be trying to lure us all there with a false sense of calm."

Weasley nodded in agreement, even though it was perfectly clear he had no idea what his girlfriend was talking about, and Narcissa continued to look skeptical but then, Severus wondered if she even had another look; none that he'd seen at any rate.

"A joy like this couldn't be faked," he argued. "I feel as though his naked body is pressed against my own, as if he's holding me and preparing me for-"

"That's enough!" Minerva shouted. "I've had enough of this debauchery to last me three lifetimes. I don't need to hear anymore about nudity or penises going near anyone's orifices. I just don't."

Ron disguised a laugh with a forced cough while Hermione stared up at her Headmistress with amused eyes.

Snape's mouth snapped shut and he stared at her blandly for a moment, trying to resist the urge to roll his eyes. "What I was about to say was that it felt as though Harry was preparing me for sleep," he corrected. "But it's good to know your mind automatically follows the gutter, Minnie."

Minerva grimaced at a combination of her faux pas and the smirking nickname, and cast her gaze to the desk as she regained some sort of balance and authority in the room. "Do you know where they are?" she asked, calmly and quietly.

"Yes," Snape replied, puffing his chest out slightly. "I can take you there."

"Fine," she bit out. "Lead the way."

* * *

"Is he dying?" Draco asked, tearing his gaze reluctantly from Harry's to his father's. The spark was failing; the light that brought his father's metallic gaze to life was slowly fading around the edges.

"Yes," Harry replied without reluctance or guilt. "Slowly."

Draco swallowed thickly and crawled over to his father's prone form, Harry watching the exchange very closely. "Father," he whispered, kneeling next to the man. "Can he hear me?" he asked his Mate.

"For now," Harry replied, placing a gentle hand at the small of Draco's back.

"You're such an arse," Draco told his father. "You brought this on yourself. You could have left us alone; you could have even left me in that cell. You didn't have to force yourself upon me or take away my control. I loved you, Father."

The man choked, his eyes taking on a momentarily insistent gleam.

"Maybe you could give him one last chance," Draco breathed, but Harry merely leaned in and placed a chaste kiss on Draco's neck.

"Is that what you want? He could kill us both if I reverse the spell, or worse," Harry breathed. "You saw first hand what he's capable of. I wish it weren't true, but it is."

"You goaded him," Draco accused. "You made him think you wanted to have us both."

"Is that a good excuse to Imperius and rape you?" Harry asked, his body still enveloping Draco in its warmth.

"No," Draco replied after an extended silence.

"Do you want him to live? Knowing what he did to you?" Harry asked. He wasn't even sure if he could reverse the spell, but he knew that at Draco's word, he would try.

"No," Draco said at last. "He deserves death." Silence stretched between them, working its way into their bones before Draco's voice sounded again, almost weak in its cadence. "But, Harry," he asked, "could you speed it up? I don't want to see him suffer anymore."

Harry nodded solemnly, turned Draco's face away, and touched Lucius' body one last time, stealing away the last of his life. "I love you, Draco," Harry whispered. "I won't let anyone hurt you ever again."

"You can't go around murdering everyone who hurts my feelings, Harry," Draco rasped, emotion nearly gagging him.

"For injuring your ego? No," Harry admitted. "But if anyone else lays a hand on you the way your father did, they'll have my wrath to contend with and Lucius' death will seem like gingerbread cookies by comparison."

Draco nearly laughed at the comment - nearly. "You realize that you've murdered a man in cold blood, without even using your wand," he pointed out instead.

"Do you love me any less?" Harry asked, casting his gaze to the floor. A few short months ago he would have thought himself incapable of such an act, but he knew now that under certain circumstances, he was capable of anything.

"Stop being dense, Potter," Draco grumbled crawling to where the other boy sat on the carpet, staring vacantly away. He was in Harry's lap before the brunet looked up, his legs twined around Harry's waist and his lips pressing lingering kisses against his temple. "You are my soul, Harry."

A sigh escaped Harry's lips as he turned and kissed his Mate, his lover, his Draco. His arms laced around Draco's back, tracing swirling shapes into the pale flesh as his tongue made similar motions in Draco's mouth. He could feel Draco grow hard against him, his erection pressing against Harry's stomach.

Draco pulled away with a sharp gasp and clambered off Harry's lap, offering his hand to help the brunet up as well. "I'm not fucking you in my father's office with him lying dead on the floor," he muttered logically.

"Good point," Harry whispered, shuddering as he took in the full effect of his vengeance before he led Draco from the room. He vowed to burn the entire place to the ground once he got Draco out of there. It was only then that Harry remembered that he and Draco weren't Lucius' only captives.

* * *

The door gave no resistance to the five powerful witches and wizards bearing down on it. It was Snape that slipped through the entrance first, marveling that Lucius could make a perfect copy of their old establishment in such a short time. Unless, of course, he'd had it sitting here in wait all along, unbeknownst to Severus, which was perfectly plausible. Severus had always been concerned that he would be slowly nudged out of the partnership once Draco came of age, but he never imagined such a ploy.

He thought that after everything he and Lucius had shared, the man would have been decent enough to give him his fair cut and be honest and upfront. He laughed aloud at the very notion. The last few months proved nothing if not that Lucius was cruel and cunning beyond any reasonable measure of the words.

"The other captives will be downstairs," he told the others. "You can reach them through a secret door at the end of that hall," he instructed and watched as Minerva and Weasley broke off and went the direction he pointed. Severus wagered that neither wanted to see what was going on upstairs.

Severus had his own doubts about it, even though he could still feel bliss through the bonds. What if Lucius had somehow convinced them, through magic or simple Malfoy charm, and the boys were at his mercy? What if Lucius was buried inside one of them this very moment and that was the joy Severus was feeling?

He shook his head and plowed onward, marching up the stairs with Granger and Narcissa in tow. He didn't make it to the office; however, because he was stopped by the very teens they'd been looking for when he rounded the hallway. "Harry!" he shouted. "Draco! Are you alright?"

"Never better," Harry replied, his quivering voice betraying him slightly.

"Where is Malfoy?" Granger asked.

"Right here," Draco replied, rolling his eyes.

"Not you, Prat, your father," she quipped, her lips curling into a teasing smile.

"Dead," he replied, and Hermione's smile died abruptly as well.

"Sorry," she whispered, glancing from Draco up to Narcissa. The blonde woman looked stoic but for a single tear that fell down her cheek.

"It's for the best," she said, wiping the tear away with a perfectly manicured hand. "I'm sure he deserved it, however you managed it. Besides, the Cambions would likely be crueler than you were."

Draco's eyes flicked to Harry, who winced slightly. "Yeah," Draco replied, his voice hushed.

"Er, could someone get us some robes?" Harry asked, suddenly feeling the full extent of his nudity now that he was in front of Snape, Hermione and his boyfriend's mother.

* * *

Harry sat on the sidewalk and stared up at the burning building in front of him. He could feel the heat and see the flames roiling off of it – all burnt oranges and fiery reds - and he wondered what the Muggle neighbors saw that kept them from calling the fire department. Could they smell the smoke? Did they see the building in tact as it had been an hour ago?

There was still so much about magic he didn't understand, yet he could wield it in a way no one else could.

With the other prisoners released and placed into the custody of trusted Cambion members, Harry had spared no time before laying waste to Madame Scarlet's. He felt freer already and hoped that Draco wouldn't grow to resent him for the murder of his father. Beside him, Draco sat still, wearing robes a bit too large for his lithe frame, his fingers twined with Harry's. They just stared at the flames in bitter silence, the others choosing to leave them be, until a tall stranger came up to block their view and break the silence.

He looked wise and had the years to back up that wisdom. Harry found the man's long white beard reminded him of Dumbledore and he distrusted him at once. "My name is Enric," the man greeted and extended his hand. Only Draco took it. "I'm the leader of the Cambions."

"You weren't at the meeting," Hermione piped in, walking over to stand behind Harry and Draco. Clearly she'd been eavesdropping.

"No, I wasn't," he replied simply and redirected his attention to the boys. "I understand that you have taken care of a blight that has been plaguing our kind for more than a decade, and for that I would like to extend my thanks."

By thanks, the man apparently meant drugs, because he handed Draco and Harry each a thin, green vial. "What's that?" Hermione asked for them.

"It's an antidote of sorts," he explained.

Hermione rolled her eyes and snatched the vial from Harry's hand, studying it closely. "Is that even possible?"

The old man chuckled, apparently amused by Hermione's brazenness, and nodded. "It was developed years ago and given to anyone of our kind who cares to take it."

"I was waiting for you to experience all there was to being one of us before I offered you the serum, Draco," Narcissa said, stepping in beside Enric. "I wanted you to make an educated choice because the effects are permanent."

"What are the effects?" Harry asked.

"The potion will suppress the Incubus gene, putting it in a constant restive state. It won't be able to resurface and force you into…embarrassing situations," the man explained.

"But, I thought the Incubus eases off when you find your Mate?" Harry asked, and his emerald gaze flicked to Draco's.

"Have you felt it easing?" the man asked, and Harry could only swallow and shake his head. "The Incubus will be more reluctant to seek feeding outside your match, but it will still crave lust and sex as much as it always has -with or without Draco at your side."

"So, it just curbs the beast," Harry replied, thinking that didn't sound so horrible.

"If you drink that potion, the Incubus can no longer cause you pain and you can live a normal life of your own choosing. Some of our members have refused the potion, wanting to remain untainted and pure, but most of our ranks enjoy the freedom the antidote has allowed us," he explained.

"And the side-effects," Hermione butted in. "What are they, exactly?"

"Your bond with the Potions Master will be broken," Enric replied, and Harry couldn't help but think that this just got better and better. "And your bond with one another will break as well. You'll no longer be pulled to each other like mystical magnets."

Harry blinked and started to shake his head. "What? The bonds will dissolve, mine and Draco's both?"

"If either one of you drinks the antidote, your bond will be lost forever," the man assured.

Harry looked down at the potion, then to his other hand, still twined with Draco's and then into Draco's sullen face before the blond lifted the vial to his lips and downed the green liquid in one full gulp.

"No!" Harry screamed, his eyes flaring wide as the last drop slipped from the glass and through Draco's perfect lips.

"I promised you I would fix the mess I put you in, Harry, and I have," Draco whispered. "It was my fault we were bonded, but you don't have to worry anymore. We're no longer tied by the Incubus, or fate, or anything else."

Harry wanted to shake Draco, tell him to stop being an arse and spit the potion back out, but he could already feel a shift. Something untangled in his gut and his mind was suddenly free of any thoughts that didn't belong to him. No longer was Draco's presence wrapped around him like a purring cat, no more could he simply reach out with his mind and stroke his lover's consciousness. Draco was gone. Their hands were still laced together, but Draco was gone.

"What did you do?" Harry sobbed, feeling more alone than he'd ever felt his whole life.

Author's note: Anyone expecting that? This will be my last update before Xmas, and the updates between now and January 4th might be a bit erratic because I'll be on holiday, but I'll do my best to post what I can. To anyone I don't normally talk to, I hope you have a lovely holiday and a happy new year.


	19. For Better or for Worse

Author's Note: Well, this is the end, the final chapter (I got he music to Final Countdown stuck in my head just then, and now I'm all doo doo doo do do *headdesk) This is the last of my big WIP stories, so you'll just be seeing some shorter stories and Faerie Tales from me for the next little bit while I work on some of the bigger stories a bit more. Many thanks to Deb and Laurel for their beta work on this chapter and story, and many thanks to my loyal readers for their patience while I finish this one. I hope it's been worth the wait.

Chapter 19 For Better or for Worse

Harry stared at the vial in his hand, green liquid resting placidly inside as if it couldn't possibly be the cause of all his misery. Just when he'd finally felt like he had understood and accepted the connection between he and Draco, the prat had ruined everything by swallowing his potion and severing the bond between them.

It had been over a week since he last felt the unnerving presence of Draco inside of his mind; a presence he'd grown to find soothing in their last moments together. The Slytherin still accompanied him to class sometimes, talking about Potions, or future jobs they might hold, or Quidditch games to be won, acting as if they'd never been more than close mates.

But Harry knew better.

Maybe Draco could no longer feel the pull of the Incubus inside him, but Harry could still feel the gaping hole in his chest where Draco had resided, leashing and taming his beast. Now the pain accosted Harry with blinding force once more, driving him mad and making him think horrid thoughts.

His flesh burned, his veins ached and his mind was constantly buzzing and whirring, seeking out someone – anyone - that could quench his thirst. But there was only one person he wanted. "Just once," Harry whispered huskily at Draco's side. He wasn't paying any attention to the substitute professor they'd brought in to replace Snape, who now rested comfortably under house arrest pending a full investigation and trial.

"No," Draco hissed. "You don't know what you're saying. That's just your Incubus talking."

"Please, Draco. I need you. I need to feel you again," Harry pleaded.

Draco glanced at Harry, their eyes locked for a singular moment in time and Harry thought he saw the blond's resolve waver for a second before Draco bit at the inside of his cheek and shook his head. "No." The word was low and firm and Harry nearly whined in frustration, but he knew from previous experience that the Slytherin would not fold to his demands.

"Fine," he huffed. "I'll just have to find someone else."

"Whatever you like, Potter," Draco answered haughtily, but Harry could see the hurt his words had caused in those gray eyes and regretted it immediately. "Or, you could simply stop being a stubborn arse and take the antidote."

Harry looked back down at the vial and Draco went back to reading his textbook. Harry carried the antidote with him everywhere these days, just in case an epiphany might suddenly occur to him; he wanted to make sure the potion was close by so that he could act on his whim before he lost his nerve. Hermione had done extensive research using the Cambions' notes on the potion and felt confident that they had told Harry the entire truth about what it did and what the possible side effects might be. Draco still seemed fine, better than fine, actually. He seemed content, almost happy. Although on most days, that knowledge only served to irritate Harry.

He didn't even know what they were to one another anymore. Were they friends? Were they more? Less? Without the help of Draco's consciousness mixed with his, Harry had no idea. _'Sort of like a normal relationship,'_ he thought in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Hermione's. Probably because that was exactly what she'd said to him the night before when he'd been complaining to her about Draco.

"But I don't want a normal relationship," Harry said aloud, startling Draco out of his reading beside him. "I want what we had before."

Draco gave him sorrowful eyes and nodded softly, grabbing Harry's hand within his. "That's gone now, Harry. It wasn't healthy and it's over. You need to move on."

Harry yanked his hand away and glowered down at the table. "So that's it? I'm just supposed to forget everything that happened? Forget the hurt, the power, the pain? I'm supposed to forget that I love you?"

Wincing, Draco looked away as well and remained silent. Harry waited, waited for Draco to answer, waited for the lies, because Harry knew Draco wouldn't be able to look him in the eyes and tell him that he'd forgotten all of it. He knew from the way the blond stared at him sometimes that Draco remembered it all as clearly as he did.

As much as he would have liked to blame Draco for all of this – his attraction, his Incubus nature, his father's sick attitude – Harry knew he couldn't. For the first time in a long time, Harry wanted to take control of his life, and he was going to start with finally drinking the antidote that he probably should have ingested a week ago.

"Well," Harry said when Draco didn't say a word. "I suppose there is only one thing for it then." Draco didn't look up until Harry uncorked the vial in his hands. Gray eyes went wide as Harry lifted the glass to his lips and tipped it, swallowing every last drop.

He felt as if he'd stood up too fast, only he was still sitting down. The wave of spinning nausea that attacked him almost sent him running for the loo, but it faded as quickly as it had begun. He thought perhaps that was it, but the strange sensations continued, with his fingertips suddenly feeling icy cold. The chill spread from his fingers and toes up through his limbs and torso until it reached his heart and he realized it wasn't cold at all. It was simply returning his body temperature to normal and banishing the burning heat that had become an unwanted companion over the last few months.

He blinked rapidly, wondering if that was the end of the shift, flexing his fingers as if his mobility would somehow be affected. "It's gone," he breathed.

"It's not gone," Draco corrected. "It's just sleeping. If you search deep within yourself, you can still feel it purring."

The Slytherin's voice was reverent, almost wistful as he spoke and Harry imagined that he was petting the beast somewhere inside of himself. Harry tried to do the same, but every time he felt like he was getting close, the Incubus seemed to slink further into the dark, as if it was purposefully hiding.

"It takes time," Draco said, seeing the frustration on Harry's face. "I think it has to come to terms with its new place in your life before it will let you find it again."

"It's just a gene," Harry huffed. "A disease of the blood."

"You and I both know differently," Draco whispered.

"Yeah," Harry muttered, feeling utterly abandoned. Now the beast, the only thing that had reminded Harry of his connection to the lovely blond beside him, was avoiding him as deftly as Draco was. Both of them were just stubborn gits.

"You did the right thing, Harry. Now you can move past all this and do whatever it was you wanted to do before," Draco sighed.

Harry opened his mouth to speak again, intent on changing Draco's mind. Now that his Incubus wasn't overwhelming him with need, he wanted to find out if Draco would be willing to try and see if they could have a go at a normal relationship, as Hermione was fond of calling it. Unfortunately, the Professor chose that moment to dismiss their class and Draco stood up and gathered his things hurriedly. "See you at lunch?" he asked, and Harry nodded lamely, his entire speech dissolving on the tip of his tongue.

* * *

"Alright, Harry?" Ron asked, clapping his friend on the back as he and Hermione took their usual flanking positions on either side of their best friend. Harry wanted to laugh at the sheer complication of that question, but he refrained.

"I took it," he announced instead.

"Took what?" Ron asked, his ginger brow set in a deep frown.

"The antidote?" Hermione guessed and he nodded. "When?"

"During class just now," Harry admitted.

"You took a controversial antidote to a genetic disorder during Potions class?" Hermione clarified, looking as if she didn't know whether to be impressed or smack Harry over the head for being reckless. It looked like she was leaning toward the smacking, so Harry shifted to Ron's other side, further away from the book-wielding harpy.

"You told me it was perfectly safe," Harry reminded her. "And you've both been riding me to take it for days now. You should be pleased."

"I'm pleased you took it, Harry," she yielded, "I'm just upset you decided to take it where no one could monitor you just in case."

"Draco was there," Harry pointed out.

"Right," Ron assisted. "Draco wouldn't let anything happen to Harry." Ron had grown rather fond of the Slytherin since their kidnapping. For some reason, the _de_-Incubused Draco Malfoy seemed to be much more tolerable than the _pre_-Incubused Draco Malfoy. Harry had a feeling that rape, kidnapping and witnessing the death of his father had contributed to Draco's new attitude and outlook on life, not to mention the fact that his body was no longer burning alive with desire.

"I suppose not," Hermione agreed, placated for the moment. "But it was still dangerous," she added with a huff.

"Well, how about this," Harry began. "What if I promise to never take a potion to suppress my Incubus during Potions ever again?"

"Clearly your sense of sarcasm has been unaffected by the antidote," she replied blandly. "What did Draco say?"

"Nothing, really," Harry sighed, feeling rejected all over again. It wasn't as though he'd expected Draco to leap into his arms and snog him the moment he'd swallowed the potion…but it would have been nice.

"I'm sorry, Harry," Hermione offered, slipping around her boyfriend to comfort her friend. "He'll come around. The events of the past few months would be hard on anyone. I'm sure he just needs time."

"Maybe," he sighed, hoping she was right.

"You did sort of kill his father," Ron pointed out unhelpfully and then winced as he realized what he'd said. "Sorry, Mate."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly, willing himself to try and forget about the beautiful blond Slytherin he was still madly in love with, despite everything. "I just need to do like he said and move on. I'm sure Narcissa is already interviewing dozens of beautiful women to present to him after graduation. He can be the Malfoy he was always meant to be now that I'm out of the way."

"Harry," Hermione started, sounding like she was about to object, but Harry just shook his head.

"It's alright, Mione. I'll be fine." And for a single fraction of time, Harry believed his own words, but then he saw Draco sitting at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall and his heart broke all over again. He tore his gaze quickly away from the chattering blond and instead watched the steady thrum of his trainers on the stone floor. It was comforting to know that he could control their pace and where the rubber would connect with the cracks - that he had control over something, anything.

He took his place at the Gryffindor table, silently thankful for his Headmistress once more when he found no odd glances or whispered gossip following him. With quick action, she'd set the Gryffindor tower to rights and slightly modified the memory of every student that had witnessed Harry's capture. Still, there were rumors on the back pages of the Daily Prophet, but without McGonagall, there would have been a front page story featuring the details of Harry's condition, his capture and likely the fact that he'd been discovered nude hiding under a bed from an equally nude Severus Snape and a scowling Lucius Malfoy. His reputation would have never recovered from that. Now all they had was speculation that he was up to something during the time he'd been away, which had only amounted to just over a day when all was said and done.

"Hullo, Draco," Hermione said, and Harry fought every urge within himself not to follow her gaze where he could now feel the blond standing behind him.

"Mind if I sit?" he asked, and she looked to Harry, who remained mum.

"Harry," she prodded when his silence didn't seem to have an end.

"He'd probably be more comfortable with the Slytherins," Harry said at last, shoveling a bite of food into his mouth. He didn't even know what he was eating, just that it kept him from having to say anything else. He caught the apologetic glance Hermione shot Draco, but he still didn't look up.

"A word, Potter," Draco said lowly behind him.

"I took the antidote, Malfoy. You won't catch me bothering you anymore," he replied.

"A word," he repeated. "Now."

Harry rolled his eyes but got up and followed the blond as he stalked from the Great Hall and rounded the stairs to a small, quiet alcove.

"What is your damage, Potter?" he stopped and hissed. "This morning you were begging for a fuck and now I'm not good enough to eat lunch with?"

"I wasn't begging," Harry corrected, narrowing his eyes.

Draco pursed his lips and gave a mocking glare. "You said 'please'," he reminded him.

"You've made it clear that you're not interested in me now that your Incubus is asleep," Harry said, giving up the other argument.

"I what? I said no such thing!" Draco exclaimed.

"I'm supposed to forget everything," Harry echoed from their earlier conversation. "Move on, do whatever it is I wanted to do before I was saddled with a sex beast and fell in love with you."

"You weren't in love with me," Draco grumbled. "You were bonded to me with ancient magic and an Incubus."

"Do not _dare _try and tell me how I feel," Harry growled, shoving the blond until his back hit the wall.

"Feel?" Draco repeated.

"Yes, _feel_, you idiot. As in present tense, as in still do, as in what the fuck am I supposed to do now?" Harry shouted, pushing his hands into ebony locks and tugging, hoping that physical pain might drown out the pain he felt in his heart.

He wanted to scream at Draco, and at the world, for the unfairness of it all; to shout that after everything he went through he at least deserved to be with the man he loved. But before he could start shouting again, he found his lips rather preoccupied. With Draco's. The blond leapt at him, gripped his red and gold tie and pulled him close, their chests heaving together as Harry tasted the most wonderful flavor in the world, something he thought he'd lost forever.

Frantically, Harry's hands sought purchase in Draco's robes, scrabbling until he found curving hipbones that he used to anchor himself to that place and that moment. The feel of Draco's tongue in his mouth, battling for dominance, was sheer bliss. Nimble fingers flew up and feathered in Harry's wild mane, massaging the scalp that Harry had just abused and leveraging them even closer together.

Harry's fingers, however, went a different direction, grazing over the growing erection beneath Draco's robes until he hissed in pleasure. "I've missed you," Harry groaned, pulling back just enough to breathe the words into Draco's mouth.

"I just had to be sure, Harry," Draco whispered. "I had to know that _you_ wanted me, not just the Incubus."

"I do," Harry assured. "I love you, Draco. That hasn't gone away."

"Will it?" Draco asked, his eyes sparkling with lust.

"I don't know," Harry said honestly. "But then, I suppose that's normal."

Draco chuckled and latched onto Harry's bottom lip, nipping and sucking and rejoicing in the guttural moans Harry rewarded him with. "I'm not going to last," Harry announced, his erection rutting against Draco's through their infuriating clothes.

"Neither am I," Draco panted before thrusting one last time and shuddering against Harry, who came in the next moment.

Forehead to forehead they stood there panting, sweat accumulating on their brow as each tried to form words between tender, breathless kisses.

"I take it you've made up then?" Hermione called from down the corridor, pulling the boys' attention away from one another.

"I think that's a safe assumption," Draco noted, pressing a firm kiss against Harry's temple.

A warm glow settled over Harry as he felt everything clicking into place. He didn't need the Incubus or the bond or his friends to tell him that Draco made him happy. He just knew, and whether or not that was normal, Harry didn't care. He was giving up on searching for normal and he was now focused on just living his life the way that he wanted, and hopefully Draco would remain at his side for every adventure.

"I love you," Draco whispered in his ear, low enough that only Harry would hear him, and all Harry could do was smile.

FIN

Author's Note: I debated back and forth about the end for a while, add an epilogue, don't add an epilogue, but I really loved the juxtaposition of the heavy smut throughout the entire story until you reach this last chapter, where it's frantic and sloppy and sweet. I also thought about reforming the bond without Snape, but the boys fought me on that. They don't want to be forced into anything, and I think the bond will be for later in their long lives.


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